An Undefined Affair
by jayhawkbb
Summary: Bella, recovering from a broken heart, meets Edward, who isolates himself emotionally. Their attraction is immediate, but can they be friends and lovers - without the love? BxE, all the regs, some drama, some funny, lemony, language AH
1. What the Hell Was I Thinking?

A/N: So, another little story...this Bella is lovingly modeled after one of my r/l gfs, who is one of the most kickass women I know and has a heart the size of Texas. :)

No one reads this crap, but just in case, I don't own Twilight or anything that goes with it.

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**Prologue: What the Hell Was I Thinking?**

**December**

I look around the room, taking in the sights and sounds. Pretty people wearing pretty clothes. Cocktails now. Dancing to begin soon. Holiday music and chatter providing background noise.

I see him standing across the room. I'm ashamed that after all that's happened, my eyes, my body are still drawn to him in a way I can't explain…can't deny…can't stop.

Why did I come here? What am I trying to prove?

"So, point out this Cullen guy," he whispers in my ear.

"He's over near the stage…hot, tall, messy hair," I whisper back.

"With the gorgeous blonde?"

"Yes, Jasper. Thanks for pointing that out," I remark humorlessly. He puts an arm around me and squeezes me into his side for a moment before letting go.

"Come on, Baby Swan. I meant _standing_ with the gorgeous blonde," he clarifies gently.

Jasper has called me Baby Swan almost as long as we've known each other. I don't remember how it even started. I met him during college, so there's a good chance one or both of us were impaired when he came up with it, but, for whatever reason, it's stuck for the last seven years. He rarely calls me Bella outside of the office; it's almost always Baby Swan.

"Yes, that's him. And the blonde? That's Rosalie Hale, Mr. Hale's only daughter. He's been trying to push her and Edward together since they were kids, according to Edward. Looks like he finally got his wish," I say flatly. Rosalie has her arm wound through Edward's and he's bent down talking to her as he pats the hand she's resting in the crook of his elbow.

I remember how hanging on to Edward's arm feels – like you're protected, treasured. I remember how fucking good he smells when he leans down to talk to you like you're the only person in his universe. I remember what an asshole he can be.

"All right. Let's get started on this mission," Jasper says, interrupting my indulgent, bittersweet reminiscence.

"What mission, Jasper? There's no mission. You're just my arm candy for the evening," I joke, smiling up at him and taking a sip of my wine.

"Baby Swan, this is the best time to make old Eddie regret what he's missing," he says leaning close again and smiling. "You look stunning, I look stunning. Chances are he'll be jealous of one of us. He's looking over this way right now, as a matter of fact, so smile that pretty smile up at me again, sugar. And let me tell you how pleased I am that you asked me to escort you this evening instead of my Neanderthal business partner."

I laugh out loud and look up at Jasper. Thank goodness we're completely comfortable physically around each other….well, not _that_ comfortable. We never went all the way, but we did round a couple of bases one drunken night during college.

And he's right about one thing: He is stunning. He has a headful of tousled blond curls and the brightest blue eyes – Texas skies, his mama calls that color. Tonight, he's wearing a black suit and a grey tie. We're coordinated – my strapless dress is gunmetal gray, with some beading around the top. Even I know this dress hugs my body in all the right places…all the places that used to drive Edward mad.

"Well, darlin'," I say, imitating Jasper's Texas drawl, "Edward knows Emmett because he has accompanied me to some of the meetings with the good ol' boys at Hale Software. And Edward knows that Emmett and I are friends, nothing more. Edward and I have barely even talked about you, except for me to say how close we are. So you, honey pie, are basically mysterious fresh meat to the eyes of everyone around here."

"Impressive accent, sugar. Has my mama been givin' you those 'learn to talk Texan in ten phone calls' lessons again?" he asks, lowering his head to whisper in my ear. Jasper is very good at making us look like a couple. We've pretended to be a couple before for various social occasions – and various exes.

"I refuse to answer on the grounds I may incriminate both myself and your mama. But someone did tell me recently that 'nothin' dries as quick as a tear' and if Edward doesn't come around, then he's 'about as sharp as a sack full of wet mice'," I laugh.

Jasper laughs with me. "Lord, she's still trying to get you in the family, isn't she?"

"Yup, especially since we were there Thanksgiving. You know what's scary? I've actually started using some of these quirky little expressions she's been teaching me – I don't even realize it until the words are out of my mouth," I say with astonishment.

"No! She's got you now Baby Swan. She'll sic Big Daddy on you next," he says, smiling and playing with the charm bracelet on my left wrist. I probably shouldn't have worn it.

"She already has. Puts him on the phone every damn time she calls me. And Big Daddy says I'm the daughter you were supposed to be," I say, dissolving into giggles and leaning into him again. Jasper is the youngest of five boys and is the baby Big Daddy felt sure would be a Texas princess. He has decided that I should marry Jasper and fulfill that role even though both Jasper and I have told him that we are just friends.

"Uh oh. Here comes Cullen and he's detached himself from the blonde. Would you like me to stay or go?" he asks, serious, leaning his face close to mine again.

"Stay, please. I'll introduce you," I answer quietly. He puts his arm back around my waist. I put on the smile I've been practicing in front of the mirror for days.

"Bella, happy holidays. It's nice to see you. I wasn't aware you'd be here this evening," Edward says in his smoother-than-velvet voice as he approaches us.

"Hello, Edward. Happy holidays to you as well. Mr. Hale invited me when I met with him a few weeks ago. I'd like you to meet Jasper Whitlock. Jas, this is Edward Cullen, the Executive Vice-President of Hale Software," I say sweetly. To his credit, Jasper looks at me intently and pulls me more tightly to his side before handing me his drink so he can shake Edward's hand. To an outsider, it would look like Jasper was captivated by my every word.

"Jasper Whitlock. You're _the_ Jasper….Whitlock….as in McCarty and Whitlock?" Edward asks, confused, as they shake hands. His eyes shoot to my face. He knew that Jasper is one of my closest friends, but not that he is technically my boss. Edward is not pleased.

"Yes, sir. Emmett and I own the advertising firm and, thank the good Lord, were smart enough to hire Baby Swan here when we first started out. She's my good luck charm. And we always have had fun together," Jasper drawls, smiling first at Edward then at me. I smile back and hand him his drink, which he takes after letting his fingers linger over mine a little longer than necessary. I put my arm around Jasper's waist, accidentally gripping so hard that he jumps a little. I loosen my grip slightly and rub over the spot where I hurt him.

Edward nods. "I saw you laughing as I was walking over. I'm glad you're enjoying yourselves," he says, not at all looking glad about anything. His voice sounds cordial, but the acerbic undertone is hard to miss. His smile is bitter…but still beautiful.

"Yes, we were discussing how my mama likes to call Bella every week to teach her funny Texas colloquialisms, planning to turn her into a Whitlock. Right, darlin'?" Jasper says, laughing lightly and looking adoringly at me again.

"I…but…I thought you were just friends," Edward stammers. Ha! This caught him off guard. Good. I know it's petty, but I do hope it bothers him to see me, think of me with someone else.

I shrug and smile. "Things changed, Edward," I state simply.

"Damn lucky for me," Jasper says quietly, but loudly enough that Edward hears.

I smile at him before turning back to Edward.

"Edward, how have you been? I saw you and Rosalie earlier. She looks well," I say politely, hating that we are reduced to these pleasantries after everything we've said to each other in the past.

"I'm fine. Rose is fine. Bella, I really need to speak with you privately," he says, his earnest green eyes boring into my brown ones, pleading with me.

"Oh, Edward. Let's not discuss business tonight," I say lightly, pretty proud of myself for keeping my composure. But I am still clinging to Jasper like he's my flotation device in this stormy sea of fuckedupness I'm drowning in.

Unseen by Edward, Rosalie is approaching from behind him. He reaches out to grasp my arm – the one that's not clinging to Jasper – and bobbles my hand enough that a few drops of my red wine slosh out of the glass.

"Bella, I'm sorry," he says, taking a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe off my hand. "But it is imperative that I talk to you – alone – for a moment." He's not smiling anymore; he seems almost desperate. I can't imagine why. We said everything there was to say.

"Edward, my father wants to speak with us," Rosalie says, sliding up beside Edward and putting a possessive arm through his. She does not look pleased to find him in my company.

"I'll be right there, Rose," he answers, not even sparing a glance her way, continuing to look at me.

"He wants us now, Edward," she says, more sharply than before. Defeated, Edward closes his eyes for a second before looking at me again. His face now stoic. His eyes guarded pools of green, betraying no emotion. That's a look I recognize. He nods stiffly to Jasper and me and turns to walk away with Rosalie.

"Well, we can probably kiss the Hale Software account goodbye," I remark wryly to Jasper after they walk away.

Texas skies search my face before Jasper responds. "Bella, I could give a fuck about the goddamn stupid account. The firm will survive without it. I'm concerned about you…and about making that motherfucker sorry he ever let you get away."

I smile up at him and sniffle a bit as I look around.

Edward's secretary Jane waves to me from a few feet away. I pull Jasper over to her and make the introductions. We are a little closer to the stage now and Mr. Hale, Rosalie and Edward all walk up the side stairs and into the middle of it. Rosalie steps in front of Edward and grabs both of his hands, wrapping his arms around her middle. Although Rosalie is smiling, Edward looks more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I chuckle to myself. That's one of mama Whitlock's favorite sayings and I know she'd be proud of me using it.

Mr. Hale takes the microphone in hand and begins to speak.

"Good evening, everyone. Welcome to the Hale Software holiday party. We hope everyone is having a great time and I'm going to let the band get going in just a few minutes. But first, I have a very special announcement to make. After years of friendship, at last the Hale and Cullen families are making a joint venture. My daughter, Rosalie, has accepted the marriage proposal of Edward Cullen!"

Cheers and applause erupt around the room. I feel like I'm going to throw up. I feel dizzy – everything seems to be tilting sideways. I need to sit down. He proposed….to her…after…how could he?

"Steady, sugar," Jasper whispers in my ear, supporting my swaying body with the arm he still has around my waist. I'm in a full-body panic, heart racing, ears ringing, knees knocking. Edward seems to be frantically searching the room with his green gaze, until his eyes light and stick on mine. He looks apologetic…sad. I whimper quietly.

"Bella, look at me and smile. Show that yellow-bellied, two-faced, son of a bitch that he can't get to you," Jasper says quietly. I rip my gaze away from Edward's magnetic stare to look up at my friend and smile the most painful smile of my life.

"There now. That'll do. He can't see your whole face. I'm gonna kiss you and you try not to throw up on me, okay? Nod," he orders. I nod and he bends down to press his lips lightly against mine. He pulls back to smile at me, then looks toward the stage. Mr. Hale is still talking, but I'm no longer listening to what he's saying.

Jasper starts talking to me again, but continues to look at Edward while I continue to look at Jasper….I can't stomach looking at Edward or Rosalie right now.

"He's still looking at you. Put your hand on my neck and pull me down to kiss you," he says. I do, my lips meeting Jasper's again.

"Jasper, I can't….I'm going to cry," I whisper, pulling back a few inches from his lips and raising my prickly, teary eyes to meet his steel blue ones.

"Don't you dare, Baby Swan," he answers, smiling gently down at me. "I'm going to kiss you once more – open mouth, but no tongue. Then I'm taking your hand and we are getting the hell out of here like someone has lit the desire fire right under our reproductive parts. That cocksucker will think that we can't wait to get out of here and go fuck each other's brains out. Got it?"

"Yes," I whisper. Jasper lowers his lips to mine again, really kissing me good this time. Damn, he's a great kisser. I wish I was attracted to him. My life would be much simpler. Well, not really, since I'm his employee. But, still, I can enjoy the kiss for the moment. Except that _he's_ watching. Fuck, that distraction didn't last very long.

"Goddamn, Swan, it's been a long time since we kissed, huh?" Jasper laughs against my lips. "I kind of wish you weren't hung up on that lily-livered, pond-sucker dicktard so we _could_ go fuck each other's brains out. I'm gonna grab your hand and haul ass out of here in just a second. I will look at the stage and tell you if he liked the show. You do not look up there under any circumstances. Understand?"

"I understand," I whisper, fresh tears collecting in my eyes.

"Hold it together for another minute, Baby Swan. When we get in the car, you're free to lose your shit," he says, grabbing my hand and intertwining our fingers before lifting our hands to his lips to graze my knuckles. He turns, swinging his gaze back toward the stage, then leads me by the hand quickly out of the room. I make it without looking back at Edward.

By the time we get our coats and are waiting for Jasper's car at the valet stand, I'm barely hanging on. Jasper helps me into the car when it arrives and then gets behind the wheel.

"Motherfucker, here he comes," Jasper says, looking out the window on my side. "Stay or go, Bella?"

I hear Edward yelling my name as he comes out the automatic doors of the hotel.

"Go, Jasper, please," I beg hoarsely. "Go!"

We take off quickly and I breathe a sigh of relief as I let the tears finally start to fall. I look in the passenger side mirror and see Edward standing where I just was…one hand in his hair, his face contorted as he calls my name once more.

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Another A/N: Please review - next chappy up Monday. Thanks for reading


	2. Meetings and Namecalling

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or its characters.

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**Seven months earlier - May**

As I walk toward the building, I am bursting with confidence. I am wearing my lucky black skirt and my highest black heels, making me feel tall and empowered. I am ready. Emmett made sure I was ready and he trusts me to handle this initial meeting on my own. I have handled clients on my own before, of course, but never one as potentially lucrative as this one.

Emmett thinks it's more of a meet-and-greet anyway since the client, Mr. Hale, wanted the meeting set for three-thirty on a Friday afternoon. Emmett is rarely in the office this late on Fridays, usually taking off early to make up for all the late nights he puts in earlier in the week. He's a big believer in balance of work and play, especially Friday happy hour play. I'm meeting him there once I'm done here.

I make my way through the revolving door and into the enormous reception area of Hale Software. I admire the slate tile floors and the rock waterfall wall behind the receptionist's desk. The décor is minimalist, industrial, contemporary…expensive.

"May I help you?" the smiling receptionist asks pleasantly.

"Yes. I'm Bella Swan of McCarty and Whitlock. I have an appointment with Mr. Hale," I respond.

"Of course, Ms. Swan. Please have a seat and I'll let Mr. Hale's secretary know you're here," she replies.

I sit down on the black leather sofa – similar to the one I've salivated over a million times at IKEA – and pick up the magazine on the table next to me. "Inside Hale Software". They have their own in-house magazine? That's impressive. I'm skimming through the articles when I come across a picture of the best looking man I've ever seen in my life, and that includes Clooney and Pitt when they were in their prime.

This man is dressed in a black suit and tie, smiling with the most perfect teeth, staring into the camera lens with the darkest green eyes and sporting a mop of messy-looking, but I'm sure carefully-arranged, brownish hair up top. Holy hell, he's gorgeous. I quickly peruse the article, looking for a name. There it is: 'Edward Cullen, Executive Vice-President, Hale Software'. Mmmm-mmmm. Eddie, come to mama. I smile to myself. I wonder if he goes by Eddie…or Ned….or Teddy. He could be _my_ Teddy Bear…just saying.

I look at his left hand – no ring. That's a relief. At least if I meet him and he asks me to drop my panties, I won't have to worry about a wronged wife. Ha. He's probably not even in this building. Hale Software has offices in several major cities. He probably lives somewhere exciting like New York or the Bay Area – not regular old, rainy Washington.

"Ms. Swan, Jane will be here to get you in just a moment," the receptionist says, pulling me out of my hot man musing. I thank her and quickly close the magazine, replacing it carefully on the table. Then, as I look up and notice the receptionist is concentrating on something on her computer screen, I pick the magazine back up and stealthily slip it into the side pocket of my messenger briefcase. I can always use a new fantasy subject for rabbit-time. And there are several copies of it laying here so I'm sure they won't miss one.

When Jane arrives, I introduce myself and am comfortable with her immediately. She talks nonstop as she leads me to the elevator and we ascend to the fifth floor. As we're on our way up, she explains that Mr. Hale is unavoidably detained, but sent word to begin without him.

"Who am I meeting with then?" I inquire. I was under the impression that I would be meeting alone with Mr. Hale this afternoon.

"You're meeting with my boss, Mr. Cullen – Edward Cullen," she answers, smiling at me. Oh, hell. I just creamed my panties. I must look panicked because Jane immediately tries to soothe me. "He's not as big of an asshole as you've heard. In fact, he's rather nice if you can get past the gruff exterior."

I do not feel better. Now I've just creamed my panties in honor of a semi-asshole? I try to save my creaming for hot, funny, nice guys. I also try not to think about any creaming during business meetings, so I'm going to need to get control of my girl parts.

*Ladies, now hear this. We do not act this way for assholes. We also do not act this way during the business day. Settle down and I will try to find you a nice, hot boy later tonight who will be good to you. We are meeting Jasper and Emmett for drinks and they always have hot friends with them. At ease, ladies. You are dismissed.*

I feel calmer. As long as no one reminds the ladies that I rarely let anyone near them, we're good.

"Ms. Swan? Are you okay? Would you like a bottled water for the meeting?" Jane asks, looking concerned as the elevator stops on the floor and we exit.

"Yes, thank you, Jane. Water would be great. And please call me Bella," I say, composing myself quickly and resolving to be all-business from here out.

* * *

Jane leads me to Mr. Cullen's office door and knocks sharply twice. She opens the door after he snaps "Enter".

"Mr. Cullen, Ms. Swan from McCarty and Whitlock is here," she states, all business in her tone now – none of the conversational ease we shared on the way up here. She steps aside for me to enter the office, telling me she'll be right back with my water.

As I step inside and get my first look at the man in the flesh, only one thought runs through my twisted brain: Holy Mary and aaaaaaall the fucking saints, that picture did not do him justice.

As I walk toward his desk, I know I'm going to have to speak in about five seconds, so I will my eyes and brain to go lightspeed on the communication and evaluation of his physical attributes. And let's be subtle please. Eyes, no blatant staring. Brain, control the mouth. No bow-chicka-wow-wow noises. Ready? Take it from the top.

Hair: brownish, but hints of red and gold mixed in; carefully arrayed in disarray; slightly longer than it was in the picture – long enough for a girl to be able to get a hold of and pull.

Face: structurally almost flawless; slight bump on his nose; ohmygod those cheekbones; full, well-shaped lips; piercing malachite eyes, harsher gaze than in the photo; long, curly eyelashes; strong, defined jawline; tiny cleft in his chin.

Body: can only evaluate from waist up, as he's very rudely not standing to greet me; broad shoulders tapering down toward his waist, which I still can't see because he's still not standing; suit jacket off, tie just slightly loosened, white shirt cuffs rolled up to just below his elbows revealing slightly tanned, muscular (but not Popeye-crazy-big) forearms; one big manwatch on his left wrist; really nice hands – big, but not meaty, long tapered fingers, clean, well-kept fingernails.

Overall conclusion: Fuckhot with a heaping side of you'd-have-to-be-blind-or-crazy-not-to-want-to-hit-this.

Okay, not a bad eval for four seconds. Nice job, eyes! Way to go, brain! He seems to be studying me as well and he finally stands up and reaches one of those long-fingered hands across the desk.

"Ms. Swan, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Edward Cullen," he says. Oh, hell. Again? Damn girl parts. Stand down! Stand down! Just because a man speaks to us with a voice so sexy that it makes us want to rip our clothes off and roll around on satin sheets, we do not release the cream! At this rate, my well will run dry before I even meet any hot boys tonight. But, yeah…totally worth it.

"Mr. Cullen, it's nice to meet you, too. Please call me Bella," I say, smiling at him. He doesn't return the smile. He also doesn't say anything resembling 'call me Edward or Eddie or Ned or Teddy'. Semi-asshole status preliminarily confirmed.

I finally reach his desk and extend my right hand to meet his, grasping it firmly before letting go quickly because I swear to God he's got one of those gag hand buzzers hidden in his palm. I felt a freaking current shoot up my arm, take a sharp turn at my shoulder, whiz by both boobs (hello, highbeams) and electrocute my girl parts. They are stunned into silence.

Thankfully, Jane returns then with bottled water for each of us. She tells us that Mr. Hale called to say he wouldn't make it back for the meeting at all, but hopes to meet with me soon. We both say thanks – mine sounded genuine, his dismissive – and she quickly exits the office, shutting the door behind her and leaving me here with Mr. White Lightning.

"Sit," he barks at me in that silken, baritone voice.

I remain standing, tilting my head slightly to the side and lifting one eyebrow at him.

"Please sit down, Bella," he corrects. It doesn't escape my attention that he did not apologize for speaking to me like a dog.

I take a deep breath and sit down, though, reminding myself that this could be a huge client for our firm. The firm has grown so much in its first four years, and I've been there for all of it. I got to know Jasper and Emmett both during college even though they are two years older than me. They were friends of my old roommate's boyfriend, and the three of us spent many nights drinking cheap beer and watching movies while waiting for Mike and Jessica to either make up or break up from their latest fight. I was really sad when they graduated – well, not Mike; he was an idiot.

Then, the summer before my senior year in college, I interned at the advertising firm where Jasper and Emmett both worked and I guess they were impressed – enough that when they started their own company the next year, they asked me to work for them. They are like the big brothers I never had. Well, Emmett is like the big brother I never had. Jasper is more like the big brother's hot friend who I made out with a few times during college, but who is now truly just a friend.

I hastily open my water and take a sip before pulling out the proposal Emmett and I prepared for this meeting. I hand Mr. Cullen his copy and start to go over some of the details.

"I'm able to read, Bella," he says brusquely, cutting me off mid-sentence, not even bothering to glance my way as he interrupts.

Then read this, dickhead, I think, flipping him off as he continues looking down at the papers on his desk.

"Of course, Mr. Cullen. Would you prefer to read through it on your own and then go over any questions you have together?" I ask politely, recovering from my momentary lapse into immaturity.

"Yes. And I'd also prefer it if you didn't flip me the bird while I'm trying to do it," he says, smirking slightly, but still not looking up at me. I chuckle quietly in spite of myself.

"Of course, sir," I answer, erasing the smile from my face and replacing it with a look of complacence. He lifts his head up, meets my gaze for a moment, lifts both eyebrows at me, then looks back down at the proposal.

After a few minutes of silence, broken only by Ned – or whatever name he answers to – turning the pages as he reads, I reach down to grab my phone, quickly switching it to silent mode. I read through my new emails, answering them quickly if I need to, and then am tempted to play a game. Ned is not paying attention to me anyway.

I open up SkyBurger, holding my phone down as far as I can so he hopefully won't notice me tilting my phone to the left and right to catch the burger toppings. Stupid Emmett, getting me hooked on this stupid game. I have completed five burgers when Ned starts talking again.

"You are extraordinarily distracting, Bella. Do you know that?" he asks as he continues reading.

"How so, Mr. Cullen?" I ask.

"Well, you're clearly playing some game over there while you are sitting in a business meeting – a business meeting at a software company, I might add. I am not only distracted by your constant movement, but also extremely curious to know what game has so wholly captured your attention," he says, turning another page.

I don't answer him.

"No response?" he asks, still not looking up at me.

"No, Mr. Cullen. I believe you were clear earlier when you stated that you preferred to read alone and discuss any questions you had afterward. I didn't hear a question anywhere in the observation slash censure that you just laid on me," I reply evenly.

Now he does look up at me with the burning green gaze. "Okay, Bella, you got me on that one. I'll tell you what, it's now past four-thirty on Friday afternoon and I've had a shitty week. I've finished reading your proposal. Why don't we go grab a quick drink and discuss my questions? Since that was, in fact, a question, I'm hopeful I'll receive a reply."

I use all my willpower to not laugh or even smile at him. "Absolutely, Mr. Cullen. I would be delighted to meet you for a drink and answer any questions relating to the proposal that you have," I answer, holding his darkened gaze and putting my phone away in my case.

"So you will only answer proposal-related questions?" he asks.

"Yes, Mr. Cullen. Being called unprofessional once a day is my limit," I reply, smiling mockingly at him.

He chuckles under his breath and the corners of his eyes crinkle up in the cutest way when he smiles crookedly at me. Whoa, Bella! Down, sister. Stop with the attraction to the fuckhot semi-asshole.

We both gather our things and head to the elevator. On the way down he gives me directions to the little Irish pub around the corner where he wants to meet.

* * *

Inside the pub, he finds us a secluded booth toward the back where we can talk business.

"Wine?" he asks.

"No, thank you, Mr. Cullen," I reply. "I'll have Absolut Mandarin and club soda with a twist, please."

He orders for both of us when the waitress comes around, calling her by name and acting charming. I don't realize I'm frowning until he points it out and asks why.

"I'm just surprised, Mr. Cullen. I didn't think you had a charming bone in your body," I answer, then blush at both my momentary lack of mouth filter and my use of the word bone. So much for acting more professional.

I'm surprised again when he laughs. "Yes, Bella, I can be quite charming when I want to be. I just don't _have_ to be very often."

"I might have noticed that," I remark wryly.

He laughs again, more heartily this time. It's probably the best sound I've ever heard. "All right, Bella. Let's talk about this proposal of yours."

* * *

An hour and a half later, we're still in the booth, but we've finally exhausted his questions that relate to the proposal. I'm working on my third drink and feel like I'm going to get very giggly in the near future, so I decide I'd better go. I start packing things away in my briefcase, preparing for departure.

"Mr. Cullen, it's been a pleasure. Thank you so much for meeting with me. You have my card. Please feel free to call me if you think of any more questions. Otherwise, I'll touch base with you at the beginning of the week to see about moving forward," I say, pretty proud of myself that I got that all out in one try after two and a half drinks.

"You're leaving?" he asks, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, Mr. Cullen. I have plans this evening to meet some friends downtown. Although now I think I'd probably better go home instead or I won't be able to get up tomorrow," I answer, smiling at him.

"I don't think you should drive, Bella," he states, frowning slightly.

"I won't. I'll call a friend, or a cab," I agree.

"Stay. Please? We'll order some food and I'll send you home in a cab in a little bit," he says persuasively. There are warning bells going off somewhere in my brain, but I can't figure out why. It's just a little food….and probably a little more drink….and a really good-looking man.

"All right, but just for a little bit. I need to text my friends if I'm blowing them off," I say, grabbing my phone.

As he orders a variety of appetizers for us from the waitress, I shoot a quick text to Jasper.

***Dumping you losers. Got a better offer. xoxo, B**

***Baby Swan, get your ass down here. Em's already drunk. I mean it, J**

***No way, Jose. I'm getting free drinks and food. Love ya, B**

***Whoever he is, make sure he keeps it wrapped. Love u2, J**

***Ew! Ur a sick perv. mwah, B**

I laugh as I put my phone away and look up to find Ned watching me.

"Was that your boyfriend?" he asks.

I shake my head at him. "Uh uh uh, Mr. Cullen. That sounded suspiciously like a question not related to the proposal," I tease.

"You're right, it's not. I still want to know," he says, leaning across the table toward me. Jeez, he's so intense all the damn time.

"No, just a friend. He is a boy, but not my boyfriend," I answer. I'm sure it's my imagination when he seems to visibly relax after my statement.

That's the only personal question I allow him to ask. I change the subject every other time he asks one and I never question him at all. He finally seems to understand that I'm not going to talk and allows me to steer the conversation to more general, mundane topics.

Since I've decided to take a cab home and have Angela bring me back to get my car tomorrow, I see no reason to lose the fabfuckulous buzz I have going. I slow down, though, and drink some water, too. And the food helps keep me from careening into the blackout ravine where I spent a lot of time last year.

We move out of the booth and to a hi-top table in the game room after we eat. We play darts a few times and he plays pool twice, trying to entice me to join him both times. I can't shoot pool sober; I know there's no way I can shoot it tipsy. And I'm definitely not leaning over the pool table while I'm wearing a pencil skirt and heels. He eventually cajoles me into sharing my SkyBurger obsession with him and I laugh when he quickly becomes enamored with the game, too. He asks me to download it onto his phone, rattling off all his passwords when I need them.

"What?" he asks as I look at him incredulously.

"Do you always tell almost-complete strangers all your passwords?" I ask.

"Bella, what are you going to do with the passwords to my phone and to the App store? Charge my credit card up $100,000 in increments of $4.99?" His eyes are laughing.

"Are you making fun of me?" I ask, raising one eyebrow at him, trying to look scary and pissed off.

"Yes, a little. But only because you're so much fun to tease," he replies. Oh damn. There it is – the perfect smile combined with the molten green gaze. His eyes sear into mine, my breath hitches, and I have to swallow before I can speak.

"Arrogant semi-asshole," I mumble under my breath, looking back down as I become overly concerned with watching the progress of the app download.

He laughs hard, clearly having overheard my mumbling. "You are…I'm….Bella, I've never met anyone like you," he says.

"I've never met anyone like you either, Mr. Cullen," I respond drolly, not looking up at him and not smiling.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he inquires quietly.

I look up and meet his heated gaze with what I hope is a steady, confident one of my own. "I'm not sure yet. I'll let you know."

Smiling softly as if satisfied with my answer, he goes back to playing the game on my phone until I get his done. The moment of seriousness between us evaporates and we go back to our superficial conversations of earlier in the evening.

By ten o'clock, I think I'd better get home while I can still recite my address.

While Ned's in the bathroom, I ask the waitress to call me a cab. When he comes back, he slides his stool over right next to mine before he sits down. Hmmm, more warning bells in my brain. They are, however, immediately overridden by the girl parts, who are shrieking at a decibel level previously only heard at Justin Bieber sightings. Jeez, I'm glad I'm not thirteen….who did I scream for at that age? No clue. Oh, wait. Ned's talking.

"Bella, I've had a great time talking to you tonight," he says, leaning in toward me a little. He smells really good.

"Are you drunk, Mr. Cullen?" I ask with a giggle.

"That's a personal question, Bella," he scolds, smiling crookedly at me. "But I'll answer it anyway. No, I'm not drunk. I am not sober, either. I'm somewhere in between."

"Yeah, me, too. Mr. Cullen, really, thank you for a great night. I had the waitress call me a cab, though, so I think I'll go wait outside," I say, suddenly feeling like I'd better get the hell away from his hypno-eyes right the fuck now. They have turned bright green and as I stare into them, I think I could sink right down and never know what hit me.

"Okay, I'll walk you out and wait with you," he offers. He stands up and pulls me to my feet. I make sure I have all my things while he tosses enough money on the table to cover our bill. He takes my messenger bag from my shoulder to carry it for me and then steps aside. "Ladies first."

I feel my mouth drop open. I snap it shut as soon as I realize I'm staring at him.

"You have manners," I remark.

"I have impeccable manners. You're surprised by this fact?" he asks, amused with me.

"You were just so rude earlier in your office. I had no idea there was a charming, well-mannered man lurking under there," I say, blushing again when I realize my filter has failed once more.

He laughs and gently prods me to begin wading through the sea of people to the door. As we get outside, I see the cab already waiting for me.

"Can we share the cab, Bella?" he asks, standing right next to me, leaning down to speak quietly in my ear. I feel another shock run through my body – how does he do that?

"Sure. Where are you headed?" I ask, so I know if I should give my address first to the cab driver or not. I try to sound calm and composed, even though I'm not breathing all that well right now.

"I was hoping…your place," he says huskily in my ear.

Oh, hell yeah. This might be worthy of those brain alarm bells again…but strangely it's crickets up there now. I look into his bright green eyes and swallow then take a deep breath.

"Okay," I answer.

* * *

In the cab, he scoots close to me and puts an arm around my shoulders.

"Um, Mr. Cullen, this makes me a little uncomfortable – I mean with the advertising proposal and everything," I say.

"Bella, I considered the business portion of the evening to be over several hours ago, as soon as we put the proposal away. Whatever happens between you and me has nothing to do with the proposal. I certainly don't want you to feel pressured to do something you don't want to because of a potential business deal, though," he says, looking at me intently.

"Okay. I mean, I didn't, I don't. I just wanted to be sure it's all, you know, separate," I say. "And, just so you know, I don't do this kind of thing." I wave my hand back and forth between us hoping he understands so I don't have to explain.

"I don't either, Bella, just so _you_ know," he declares. He leans in to kiss me gently, chastely…twice.

Chastely? Did I really think chastely? There's no such thing with this man. Both kisses cause that White Lightning to run through my body again and set certain body parts on fire. I raise my hand to his face and pull him in to kiss me once more. I'm squirming in my seat by the time we get to my apartment building. He pays the cabbie before helping me out and pulling me into the lobby, to the elevators. I push the button for my floor and before I know it, I have the fuckhottest guy I've ever seen locked inside my apartment.

"Would you like a drink?" I ask, walking to the kitchen. I turned a lamp on in the living room, so I don't turn on the glaring, overhead kitchen lights. I know what I look like by this point in the evening. Soft white bulbs are definitely my friends.

"Water would be great," he answers. I get two bottles out of the fridge and hand one to him. We both take big drinks and then look at each other nervously. He took his suit coat off as soon as we got inside and his tie was already gone when he got to the pub. I step toward him and put a tentative hand on his chest, moving it up and down slightly, liking the feel of his firm chest beneath the shirt. He exhales loudly and closes his eyes for a minute. Then he turns us so that my ass is up against the kitchen counter and he's got me trapped against it. I put my palms down on the counter behind me to steady myself as we stare into each other's eyes.

"Bella," he whispers as his mouth descends to mine. He raises his hands to my face, cradling it gently as his lips begin to work against mine. He uses gentle pressure on my chin to get me to open my lips for him and we both moan as he sucks gently at my bottom lip and slides one hand around to the back of my neck, gripping my hair in his fingers. We kiss for several minutes, tongues and lips getting acquainted with each other, then I move my arms from the countertop behind me to wrap around his waist, pulling his pelvis into mine.

"Hell," he mutters when I move my hips against his, moving his hands to circle my waist and then skimming lower until both hands are on my ass, pressing us together.

"Hell yourself," I mumble back, feeling the size of his erection against me. "Where'd you get that thing?"

He chuckles against my lips and lifts me up to sit on the counter, effectively depriving me of the pelvic friction I wanted. I rock from hip to hip, hiking my skirt up enough that he can maneuver between my spread thighs and then I finally get my hands in that soft, pullable hair and tug until he puts his lips back to mine.

He starts to unbutton my blouse, then stops suddenly. "Can I?" he asks, pulling back only slightly from my mouth. I nod wordlessly and he goes back to kissing and unbuttoning. He gently pushes my top off me when it's unbuttoned and leans back a little to look at what he's uncovered.

I have a moment of panic and look down at my bra, desperately trying to remember what panties I have on. Come on, brain, you just saw them an hour ago in the pub bathroom. Am I matching today? Or am I going to have a Bridget Jones and her gigantic cotton panties moment if this goes any farther? Think…think….black lace boyshorts….yes! No Bridget moment for me tonight.

"Jesus," he says as he reaches out to touch my breasts, displayed for him in a black and white floral sheer bra. "You're incredibly beautiful."

I push his hands down for a minute so I can get his shirt off him, unbuttoning it impatiently. He drops his shirt to the floor and reaches for me with both hands, each hand cupping a breast, each thumb brushing slowly, repeatedly over a nipple. He's not kissing me anymore; he's leaning back, watching what his hands are doing to my body. Finally, he leans his head forward and starts placing kisses all along the upper edge of my bra, over the swell of my breasts as his magic fingers continue their delicious torture of my nipples.

"Ohgod…ohmygod," I whimper. Not able to stand it anymore, I pull him forcefully toward me and wrap my legs around his waist. His lips return to mine as one of his hands moves from my boob to trace a leg from thigh to foot, groaning when he realizes I still have my heels on.

"Where's the bed?" he asks, starting to lift me off the counter.

"Why? What's wrong with here?" I ask breathlessly.

He presses his forehead to mine. "Goddamn, you're going to kill me. Bella, I'm not fucking you for the first time on the fucking kitchen counter," he growls.

"But maybe the second time?" I ask hopefully.

"Maybe. Bed?" he asks again, lifting me completely up in his arms, one arm across my back and the other under my ass. I'm wrapped around him tightly, arms hooked around his neck and legs still twined around his waist. I might as well not be wearing a skirt, it's pushed up so high around my thighs.

"Left, left, end of the hall," I pant.

"Roommate?" he asks. I briefly wonder why I'm so out of breath that I sound like I've run ten miles, but he's carrying me and is not winded at all.

"No, but nosy neighbors," I laugh. "They'll start knocking if we're loud."

"I don't care," he answers.

"Me neither."

I lean over to flip on the light switch as we enter my room and it turns on one of the bedside lamps. He lays me down gently on the bed, smoothes my skirt back down partway and then pulls the comforter out from under me, so I'm lying on the sheets. He chucks his shoes, socks and pants and is soon standing by my bed in just his dark boxer briefs.

"These are hot…but dangerous," he says with a devastating smile, pulling off my shoes. I lift my hips when he's done and slide the back zipper of my skirt down, allowing him to pull it off when it's unzipped. "God, you're gorgeous."

"So are you," I respond. He gets onto the bed, straddling my thighs and reaching under my back to undo the clasp of my bra. He slides it off me slowly, exhaling loudly when I pull my arms free and fling it off the bed. I reach one hand up to trace down his chest to his navel, gasping as he grabs my hand before I can go lower and pins it to the mattress with his own hand.

"I can't take that right now," he says lowly, smiling down at me. As if he knows what I'm thinking, he wraps my other wrist in his other hand and presses it to the mattress, too.

He leans forward to swirl his tongue around one nipple and then the other before finally sucking them. After a couple of minutes, my hips start to jerk involuntarily underneath his and he releases my nipple and wrists to slide down and pull the lacy panties off me.

"Yours, too," I whisper, trying to push at his briefs. He helps and then tosses both of our underwear onto the floor.

"Open up for me, Bella," he says huskily. I move my legs apart and he settles in between them, moving one hand to stroke me gently, sliding his fingers against me, then inside me. "Damn, you're so hot, so wet."

"Don't make me wait," I plead, rejoicing internally when I hear him rip the condom packet open.

And then he's right there, sliding into me so slowly. When he's all the way in, he lowers his lips to mine. "Fuck, you feel so good all around me," he groans into my mouth.

I can't really answer, so I just wrap one arm around his neck and slide the other down to his ass, and urge him to start moving. He pulls out excruciatingly slowly then slides back in, groaning against my neck. He repeats this several more times, until I'm gasping and bucking beneath him.

"Jesus, are you trying to drive me insane?" I ask.

"No, Bella. I'm trying to make you feel good," he answers, out of breath, too.

"You are. Now go faster and make me come," I order.

He huffs out a laugh and answers, "Yes, ma'am." He picks up the pace immediately and after several more thrusts, he moves one hand down, his fingers circling my clit, the heel of his hand pressing gently on my pubic bone, sending me crashing straight toward an orgasm. I realize that my headboard is banging against the wall rhythmically. Angela, my friend and next-door neighbor will be all up in my business tomorrow if she hears this. My side of the wall has been quiet since I moved in.

But this is no time to be thinking about Angela.

"Ohgod…ohgod…right there…oh yes…ohmygod, Ned," I yell as I climax, pleasure shooting fast and hard through my body.

He stops moving immediately and raises up to look me in the eyes.

"Who the fuck is Ned?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading...please review.

Next chapter will be posted tomorrow. :)


	3. Ned vs the Rabbit

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters.

* * *

**Ned vs. The Rabbit**

**May**

"Huh?" I pant, blinking slowly, still in an orgasmic haze. I am not quite sure what he asked me, but he stopped moving and he looks pretty pissed. What the hell did I say? I haven't had a boyfriend for over a year, so I doubt if I screamed someone else's name in ectasy.

"I asked you who the fuck Ned is," he growls. I think he's trying to tase me with his eyeballs. He shouldn't bother. He already tased me with his rather large…stun gun.

I start to giggle thinking about the stun gun which seems to make him even madder, but he stays buried inside me…and I can feel him throbbing. My giggle turns into a groan before I answer him.

"You. You're Ned," I say breathily.

He frowns at me. "No one calls me Ned," he says disbelievingly.

"Except the woman you're screwing who doesn't know what anyone calls you," I say loudly, starting to get angry. "I've been calling you Ned in my head all night…you never told me to call you by whatever first name you answer to and since I'm not a character in a goddamn Jane Austen book, I refuse to call you Mr. Cullen while you're fucking me."

His face relaxes into a killer smile immediately.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he says in his deep voice. "I didn't realize that I never told you to call me Edward." He leans down to kiss me, sucking at my bottom lip for a minute before moving down to my neck.

"So everyone calls you Edward? No Teddy, no Eddie?" I ask. My hips buck involuntarily as he sucks gently on the spot where my neck and shoulder meet.

"No," he says forcefully.

"I think I'll keep calling you Ned, then. I like it," I say smiling up at him when he raises his head to look at me.

"I want to hear you scream my real name – not Ned – the next time you come," he says, starting to move again and kissing the spot right under my ear.

"Ohmygod, if you keep doing that, I'll call you whatever you want," I moan. "Especially if you do it faster."

"Really? Whatever I want?" he asks, grunting as he increases his speed. He must know I'm close again because he grabs my hand and moves it down before raising up on his knees, his eyes locked on mine.

"Touch yourself, Bella. I want to watch you come undone around me," he growls, grabbing my hips to hold me still as he moves in and out of me. I barely get a finger on myself before my orgasm goes ripping through me.

"Jesus – fuck – Edward," I scream hoarsely, as I clench all around him.

"Oh, god, Bella – that feels fucking amazing," he says. He thrusts three more times and then I feel him release inside of me. He collapses back down on top of me, calling my name again, then kissing me gently as we both catch our breaths.

He pulls out of me and gets up from the bed. Oh, this is when men leave after a wham, bam, fuck you, ma'am, right? I'll call you….see you around….it's not you, it's me….whatever. Still the best sex I've ever had. He removes the condom and holds it away from me as he leans back down to kiss me.

"Don't move. I'll be right back," he says.

I hear him go into the bathroom and then into the kitchen a minute later. He walks back through my doorway with our waters and our shirts and frowns when he sees that I've pulled the covers up around myself.

"I was cold," I offer weakly.

"I know. I should have covered you up before I left the room," he says. He hands me my water, waiting while I sit up and take a drink before setting it down for me and going around to the other side of the bed to climb in next to me. I'm pleasantly surprised he's hanging around for a bit – and a little surprised that I want him to.

I turn onto my side to face him and he does the same, smiling at me and leaning in to kiss me gently.

"So, Ned, I should have asked this before. I'm really hoping you don't have a girlfriend or a wife waiting around somewhere. I don't screw dudes in relationships," I say. "Well, lately, I don't screw any dudes at all – or women either, just to be clear – but cheaters are a definite no-no for me." Nice to see I haven't lost my touch for less-than-intelligent rambling yet. I was hoping he'd fucked that right out of me.

He chuckles lightly before he answers me. "No, Bella. I'm not married, not in a relationship. I don't really do relationships, at least not in the traditional sense. But I don't screw around on the side if I'm in a physical relationship with someone."

"What the hell does that mean?" I ask, thoroughly confused.

"It means I don't really date, don't have romantic relationships. I don't want the hassle of having to constantly explain myself to someone or apologize for the amount of time I devote to my work or other aspects of my life. However, I have occasionally had female friends I do things with – like dinner –,"

"And each other," I add helpfully.

He smiles crookedly and chuckles. "Yes, and each other, until one of us tires of the arrangement," he says, acting like this is all perfectly logical. As an aside, no woman could logically tire of an arrangement where Ned does to her what he just did to me.

"So you just leave feelings completely out of the equation?" I ask, intrigued.

"Yes. I don't like to deal with the drama," he says.

"Ned, you realize that's a crock of shit, right?" I ask, frowning at him.

He laughs and kisses me, then pulls me closer to rest against his chest.

"You know, Bella, I haven't even known you for eight hours yet and so far you've flipped me off, called me an arrogant asshole, told me I'm full of shit, been surprised that I have manners and charm, and insisted on calling me by the wrong name. You're a busy lady," he says, his baritone voice rumbling through his chest under my ear.

"I only called you a semi-asshole," I mumble.

"I stand corrected."

"I also screwed you," I say, tilting my head back to smile up at him.

"Jesus, did you ever," he says, looking in my eyes and kissing me thoroughly.

"You're welcome," I say against his lips.

"I don't remember thanking you," he smiles against mine.

I pull away and lift one hand to trace along his cheekbone. "But you will – you have impeccable manners, right?" I tease, sliding my hand into his hair and pulling his lips back to mine.

"If this is what the first eight hours is like, what do you have in store for the next eight?" he muses, running one of his hands through the ends of my hair.

"I don't know. Parts of the first eight will be difficult to top. But I'm willing to try if you are," I say.

"Bella, I'd like to stay with you tonight…but I'm serious. I don't do romantic relationships," he says looking into my eyes.

"Perfect. Neither do I," I answer, moving my mouth to his neck.

He pulls back. "What? You just told me I was full of shit for saying that five minutes ago," he says, sounding kind of pissy.

I scoff. "I never really said _you_ were full of shit. I said your reasons were a crock of shit – no time, no drama, no apologies. That's the bullshit part. The only logical reason to leave emotion out of relationships is to avoid being hurt."

"So that's your big reason for not doing relationships?"

"Yup. Too risky. The last guy I let in broke my heart. Actually, he didn't just break it – he ripped it out of my chest and stomped on it with his size 12 boots until it was flattened and then let his little tramp on the side pierce it with her stripper stilettos on the way out the door," I say.

"He cheated on you," he says, his eyes darkening.

"Yeah. A year and a half ago…three weeks before we were supposed to get married. I caught an early flight home from a conference in Vegas…to surprise him," I laugh hollowly at the painful memory. "I'd say we were both surprised."

"So, that's why no cheaters…," he prods.

"No," I say harshly, frowning up at him. "I didn't like cheaters before that. No one deserves to be treated so disrespectfully."

"Bella, you know he's the fool, not you," he says softly, grazing my cheek with the back of his hand.

I shrug one shoulder. "Maybe. I'm sure some day I won't be so bitter or so quick to judge every guy I meet. But, for now, I have my boys Em and Jas to take care of me emotionally and I have the rabbit to take care of me physically," I say, smiling again.

"Who are Em and Jas?" he asks.

"My best friends," I answer.

"Best friends with benefits?" he asks hesitantly.

I make what my dad calls my split-pea soup face, conveying my absolute disgust at the remark he just made. "Oh! Ew! No….I could never kiss Em, he's like a brother to me…and he's like a walking petri-dish. He's been around…and around and around."

"And Jas?"

"Jas is my best friend in the world. I would never risk screwing that up," I say softly, lowering my eyes to rest on his chest. I feel my pulse quicken. And the ladies are coming around from their post-coital fainting spells, reminding me that I have not spent enough time exploring Ned's body yet.

"And the rabbit?" he asks, his voice mischievous.

"Oh, let's not pretend that every guy doesn't know about the rabbit by now," I laugh, feeling my face redden, looking at my fingers as they run through the smattering of hair on his chest. "You're just trying to embarrass me."

"Well, you do turn the most perfect shade of pink when you blush," he says, lifting my chin so that my eyes meet his again. "You're beautiful."

I swallow before speaking. "Thank you, Edward."

"You're welcome," he answers, lowering his lips to mine sweetly.

"Now," he says, shifting to lie on his back and pulling me to lie half on top of him, "I'd really like to spend some time proving to you that the rabbit is an inferior machine."

"I don't know…it might take a lot of convincing," I say playfully. "I have a great deal of affection for the rabbit. Are you sure you can do the job?"

"You could at least give me a trial period," he says, smiling as I lower my lips to his.

"What…you come with a 'satisfaction guaranteed' stamp? Like 12 orgasms in 12 hours or your money back?" I laugh, kissing my way along his strong jawline and down his neck.

He groans before he answers me. "Are you saying that if I give you 12 orgasms in the next 12 hours, you'll concede that I'm better than the rabbit?"

"That's not exactly what I said, but that sounds reasonable. I'll even spot you the two I already had," I say, moving up to his ear to trace it with the tip of my tongue.

"We do have one problem," he says, his hands roving over my back and ass. "I only carry one condom in my wallet and we already used it."

"How is that a problem for me?" I ask cheekily.

He rolls me over so quickly that I squeal. His verdant gaze holds mine as he lowers his lips to mine and moves his hips against mine, stroking himself against me. I try to hold still, try to pretend that he doesn't arouse me in a way that I've never been aroused before – although a year and a half of nothing but the rabbit probably contributed to my joy at having a man back in my bed. Both of our bodies react and soon I'm moving against him, moaning, loving the wet humping, but wanting him inside me. He pulls his mouth away from mine.

"Oh, I'm sorry. This isn't your problem, right?" he says lowly in my ear.

"Okay, okay. I have some," I pant. "Top drawer, over there." I point to the nightstand on the side of the bed.

"These aren't the cheater's, are they?" he asks, stopping the tortuous movements of his hips and looking down at me.

"No. Jas bought them for me after Jake," I say. "He told me it was time to get back on the horse that threw me."

"And did you?" he asks, searching my eyes for answers.

"Yeah, about half an hour ago," I reply. "New apartment, new bed, new guy."

"Bella…," he says, still looking at me intensely.

"Don't feel sorry for me – and don't get all worried. I'm a big girl. One night stands are okay with me," I say. Then I add the double-dog dare words. "Unless you're not up to the challenge."

He grins down at me and I grin back.

"I'm good to go if you are," he says.

"Oh, I'm good," I say suggestively, raising one eyebrow at him.

"I'm discovering that," he laughs. He reaches over and opens the nightstand drawer to grab the condoms. "Jesus, how many did he buy you?" He tosses several on top of my nightstand.

"I don't know. He was giving me some lecture about being careful and prepared and I was all embarrassed 'cause it's freaking Jas and I don't want to talk about sex with him – even though we've made out and he felt me up once during college. So I just shoved them in my drawer and told him I'd take him for beers if he would shut the fuck up," I say, once again falling victim to my excessive information explosion of the mouth.

He's hovering over me again, looking at me with a mixture of wonder and disbelief.

"Was that a rhetorical question?" I ask, blushing again.

He chuckles quietly. "Yeah, kind of, but I'm strangely turned on by how you can't seem to censor anything you say. It's hot and adorable and annoying all at the same time," he says, smiling the crinkly-eyed smile at me.

"I'll assume you meant that in the most complimentary way possible," I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down to press my lips to his. "And not to rush you, Ned, but tick, tock. The clock is not on your side here."

"I'm not worried. Two down, ten to go," he says, kissing down my neck to my chest.

It doesn't take him very long to get numbers three and four. He takes his time with five, building me up and then slowing down several times until I finally plead with him to finish. The resulting orgasm is worth every frustrating minute.

Once he gets rid of the condom, I turn off the bedside lamp and we lie in bed on our backs, holding hands loosely in between our sated bodies.

"So, his name was Jake?" he asks quietly.

"Oh, no. The 'getting to know Bella' portion of this night is over, Ned. I've already said too much," I answer with a yawn. "And I'm fucking sleepy. Zip it."

"Jesus Christ, you're bossy."

"My bed, my rules," I reply with a chuckle.

"I'll remember that when we're in my bed," he retorts. I inhale sharply at the thought of getting more than one night with him.

"Ha. You should be so lucky," I say instead of grabbing my calendar to set a date and time for a round of horizontal hoopla in _his_ bed. "'Night, Ned." I turn away from him onto my side. He moves up behind me, spooning me, before he answers.

"Goodnight, Stella." We both laugh softly. When he puts an arm around my waist, I scoot back, closer to his chest. Just before I drift off to sleep, I feel him place a gentle kiss on the side of my head and whisper my name.

* * *

Much to my chagrin, he gets four more during the night. The first time, I wake up with his hands and mouth already on me – I don't last long at all that way. In fact he got two in a row with barely any effort. I'm not sure if it's the long fingers or the magic tongue. I actually don't even care which it is as long as he keeps entertaining me with them. Afterward, he held me and let me go back to sleep without taking anything for himself.

At daybreak, when the room is just beginning to turn purple-gray instead of black, he stirs again from his place behind me. He moves my hair and licks and sucks gently on the nape of my neck while his free hand caresses my breasts. Once I start thrusting my hips back toward him, he lifts my top leg over his hip and slides inside me.

I panic momentarily because I don't think he put a condom on, but I can tell he's wearing one.

"When did you put the condom on?" I ask, confused.

"While I was trying to get you awake enough for this to be consensual. Bella, I wouldn't go without a condom unless we talked about it," he says, holding still.

"Okay. I'm on the pill, but, you know, we don't know each other's histories. It's safer this way. Well, you know some of my history, like I haven't had sex in over a year. And I got tested after I found out about the tramp. God knows where else he'd been. I checked out fine. I don't really know anything about you, though," I say. He's chuckling behind me and sucking hard on the spot where my spine and neck meet.

He goes from sucking my neck to placing open-mouth kisses on my upper back. "I wouldn't put you at risk, Bella. I'm clean, but you're right, this is safer. Keep talking, it's turning me on," he says, sliding his hand down from my breasts to rub between my thighs.

"Jesus," I say, when he lightly grazes my clit. "I'm not sure I can form coherent sentences while you're doing that, but I'll try. Did you know the average person has sex over 4,000 times during their lifetime? That's like doing it every night for almost eleven years…not counting leap years, which really shouldn't be counted because that would only add two or three days, depending on when you start."

He groans and I feel myself getting close again as his fingers and hips move faster. "Why do I find your ramblings so fucking sexy?" he murmurs against the back of my neck.

"Um….I don't….know….fuck….I….Edward!" I say loudly as the orgasm hits me.

"Goddamn…Bella," he groans, moving his arm to hook around my waist and pulling me tightly back against his chest as he thrusts a few more times, stroking that magical spot inside each time. I come again, moaning, and he comes right after me, groaning and biting gently on my shoulder.

"Jesus, was that two more?" he asks a minute later, kissing the side and back of my neck again. He probably doesn't even have morning breath.

I nod. "I should be embarrassed. I'm coming like a whore," I say. "I know you won't believe me, but I've never been like this before….never brought a random guy home with me, never been multi-orgasmic."

"I believe you," he says, still holding me tightly. We lie there several minutes letting our breathing return to normal.

"I need to pee and take a shower. Then I'll fix breakfast if that's okay," I tell him. "You can shower, too, if you want. That's not a hint. You don't smell bad or anything. Actually, you smell so freaking good I don't even want to get up."

His chest is shaking behind me and I laugh a little, too.

"Damn, woman. I don't know which is more likely – that you'll ever stop rambling or that I'll find anything about you that I don't like," he says, squeezing gently with the hand across my middle.

"Oh, there's plenty about me not to like," I say. "You want me to give you a complete list or just the top three complaints I hear?"

"What are the top three?" he asks, sounding amused.

"I'm stubborn, sarcastic and hard to please," I answer.

"Well, I happen to like stubborn, sarcastic women. And, Bella, I've spent the last few hours proving that you are not at all hard to please," he says in my ear, his already low voice dropping another octave.

I sigh contentedly and pull his arm off me, raising his hand to my lips to kiss the fleshy spot between his thumb and index finger. "You're pretty sweet for a semi-asshole," I tease, scooting off the bed and getting my robe from the closet and clean panties from a dresser drawer.

I shower and dry my hair then head to the kitchen. I hear the shower start up again as I'm frying bacon and whisking the scrambled egg mixture. He comes into the kitchen several minutes later, hair still wet, wearing his suit pants but no shirt. I barely restrain myself from making slurping noises, which is kind of ridiculous since I've had this man naked in my bed for the last eight hours and nine orgasms.

We eat breakfast at the kitchen bar, talking quietly and listening to the gentle rain against the windows. When we're done, we go back to bed, both of us stripping back down to underwear. I lie on my back and he lies on his stomach, moving one of his legs under mine to hook our legs together and reaching one hand over to gently stroke a breast. His fingers move more and more slowly then finally stop as he drifts off to sleep. Smiling over at his dazzling face, I let myself fall into a peaceful slumber, too.

* * *

"That's eleven," he says, the arrogance apparent in his voice.

"It was a mini. Minis don't count," I argue, trying not to smile.

"Minis sure the fuck do count. There was no 'minis don't count' stipulation when the challenge was issued," he contends, sounding annoyed now.

"Fine. Minis count. But the rabbit never gives minis," I taunt.

"Oh, now you're just trying to start shit," he says, sounding like he's trying not to laugh, as he crawls up my body and rests between my legs.

"Maybe," I smile, reaching my hands up to trace both thumbs across his lower lip.

"Well, you were so loud with ten that it should count for one and a half," he smirks.

Yeah, I was pretty loud. It was definitely the magic tongue that time. Angela even called to make sure I wasn't being attacked. I told her I was, but with my permission. She made me promise to call her back once my sexy time with Ned is over. When I hung up, I informed Ned that it was very difficult to carry on a conversation with my neighbor while he was finger fucking me. I was a little mad, which is probably why number eleven was only a mini.

"Touché," I answer, laughing full out now. "I'll give you credit for the full eleven. Wow, you're even ahead of schedule. You have almost an hour to wring one more orgasm from my sexually depleted body."

"It won't take me that long," he says confidently, rolling a condom on quickly and thrusting into me. He's right. Within three minutes, I'm on the edge again…

"Say it," he orders. I shake my head no. "I mean it. Say it."

"It's not true yet," I answer, gasping for breath.

"I won't finish you unless you say it," he says, crashing his mouth to mine for a moment. I pull away when I can't breathe, and then he bares his teeth and glides them smoothly across my clavicle from one shoulder to the other. I whimper, digging my fingernails into his biceps.

He increases the speed and force of his thrusts, driving me faster and faster toward number twelve.

"Oh…god….oh….god," I breathe.

"Say it, baby."

"Please."

"Say it. Edward's better than the rabbit." He's back to sucking on my neck, which by now he's figured out has a direct correlation to how fast and hard I come. Ned is a quick learner.

He moves one hand down and hovers over my clit, touching lightly twice then pulling back.

"Edward's better than the rabbit," I moan. He lifts away from my neck to look in my eyes.

"Louder, baby."

"Edward's better than the rabbit," I say a little louder.

"Once more," he growls, putting his hand back to my clit and circling it quickly.

"Ohmygod…Edward's better than the rabbit!" I yell, my body awash with pleasusre, my legs shaking, my pulse pounding. I feel him finish and then collapse on top of me, but I can't move even a finger.

"Fucking Christ…that was…," he says, panting.

"Yeah."

"Incredible."

"I think I might be dying. Or already dead," I mumble, managing to get my arms around his back, holding his chest to mine.

He kisses me, laughing when I barely have the energy to respond. "I'll be right back," he says near my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt all down that arm. He chuckles again softly, pressing a kiss to my cheek and climbing out of bed.

I'm basically comatose by the time he gets back. He gets in beside me and pulls me to him, moving me around until I'm kind of draped across him.

"You want to sleep for awhile before we go get our cars?" he asks.

I nod.

"Okay. I'd really like to eat dinner with you tonight. Do you think you'll be recovered enough by then?" he asks.

"Prob'ly," I mutter.

"Bella?" he says softly.

"Hmm?" I manage to grunt.

"I've never been so glad that I had to stay late on a Friday for a meeting." I sigh contentedly and press a small kiss to his chest where I'm lying. He kisses the top of my head and rubs his hands gently over my back and arms.

"Me, too," I whisper sleepily.

* * *

A/N: Could you find any plot development amidst the smut? There was some, I swear. ;)

R/L is crazy for me this week, so the next update most likely will be Sunday.

Thanks for reading...please review


	4. The MuFu Agreement

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or its characters.

* * *

**The MuFu Agreement**

* * *

An hour later, Edward wakes me by gently kissing my fingers until I open my eyes.

"I hate to wake you, but I need to do a little work this afternoon," he says, dragging my body up in the bed until our mouths are even. He kisses me gently, lingeringly…stroking his tongue over mine again and again as he cups my face with his hand.

"Ok, let's go. I'm too sore for another round right now," I laugh, pulling away when his hands start to wander. He chuckles back and whispers that he's sorry to which I reply that I'm not.

I pull on a flowy summer skirt and t-shirt, then call a cab to take us back to the bar where we both left our cars. When we get there, he walks me to mine and opens the door for me after I use the remote to unlock it.

"Bella, I don't remember the last time when I had so much fun," he says, turning to smile crookedly at me.

"I had fun, too. Well, hopefully you figured that out for yourself. Otherwise I need to work on my communication skills," I say, smiling back up at him.

He laughs before he answers. "Your communication skills are excellent…and sometimes loud. So, I'll pick you up at seven?" he asks, bending down to kiss me.

"Ned, that sounds suspiciously like a date. How about I meet you somewhere instead?" I say. I really like him, but I was serious about the no-dating thing, too. I'm not in romantic relationship mode yet. But I'm definitely in sex-buddy relationship mode, especially after last night. Especially with him.

"Okay. Why don't you come to my place and we'll walk to the restaurant from there? I can text you directions if you give me your cell number," he says. That wasn't exactly what I meant, it still sounds date-ish, but what the hell. He's seen my place, after all.

"Check your phone. I already added myself to your contacts…for business purposes, at the time," I tell him, smiling cheekily.

"Oh, really? You're a sneaky little thing, aren't you?" he asks.

"Hey, that's what you get for giving almost-complete strangers your passwords to everything," I laugh. "I added myself right after I called you an asshole."

"Semi-asshole," he reminds me, smiling.

"That rating is subject to change without warning," I tease, pleased when he laughs again and reaches for my hand to squeeze it.

"So I'll see you around seven then?" he asks, his green gaze relaxed…happy.

"Sure, Ned. See you then," I reply, getting into my car. I start it and pull away, purposely not watching him get into his car, suddenly uncomfortable at how much I don't want to leave him for the next few hours. Time to go home and regroup…and sleep.

* * *

After some lunch and a two hour nap, I am ready to face my neighbor. I pick up the phone and dial Angela.

"Hello? Bella?" Angela says, picking up almost immediately.

"Yes, it's me. He's gone," I say.

"I'll be there in 20 seconds," she says loudly, then hangs up. I think it's more like ten seconds when she comes bursting through my apartment door. She kicks the door shut with her foot and hurdles over the back of the couch to sit at the opposite end from me.

"Spill," she demands.

So I do. I tell her an abridged version of the sordid tale of Nedward and me. She chides me briefly for sleeping with someone I don't know and for letting him stay so long, concerned that I may have gotten mixed up with a burgler or serial killer.

"Angela, his salary is probably several million dollars a year. I doubt if he's going to steal my $99 watch or my Crate and Barrel stemware," I argue. "Besides, if you saw him, you'd gladly risk your life for the chance to have him in your bed."

"Good-looking, huh?" she asks, her eyes bright.

"Good-looking doesn't begin to cover it," I sigh. Suddenly, I remember that I have the magazine with his picture in my messenger bag. I get the magazine and quickly flip to the page with his picture then hand it to her, smirking.

"Yeah, right! Very funny, B," she laughs, tossing the magazine back at me.

"Hey, don't wrinkle him," I say, frowning as I smooth the page back out.

"That's not really him," she says. I look pointedly at her. "Is it?"

"Angela, look at my face. Do I look like I'm shitting you? Does he not look like he could make a woman scream the way he made me scream during the 13 hours he was here?"

"Fucking shit! Give it back and let me look at him again," she says, grabbing for the magazine.

"Don't grab. You'll rip him," I say, then giggle when I realize we sound like a couple of tweens arguing over a picture of the Jonas Brothers. I may never completely forgive Jasper for making me go with him to take his two nieces to that concert. At the very least, he's paying for my hearing aids when I'm old because I know my hearing was damaged that night by the shrieking eight-year-olds.

"So are you dating him?" she asks.

"No. I would be open to fucking him repeatedly until he gets tired of me, though," I say, smiling.

"Bella, you know those kinds of arrangements never work out," she says, looking skeptically at me. Everything is black or white, good or bad, right or wrong in Angela's world. Sometimes she's right, though. She's probably right now, but I'll take a few nights of fun and sex over the last year and a half of crying, boring nights, and no sex.

"I know it won't last long-term, but really, Angela, look at him. Would you kick him out of your bed? I don't even know if he wants to continue or not. We're going to dinner tonight, but it might just be a 'thanks, but no thanks' thing."

"He's taking you to dinner?" she asks, brightening. "Where are you going? What are you wearing?"

"I don't know. I forgot to look to see if he texted me directions yet," I reply, going to grab my phone off the charger. I have four new texts: two from Jasper and two from an unknown number.

Jasper's first one is from last night and just wants to know if I'm home safe. At midnight. Yes, J, I was home safe having safe sex.

The second from Jasper is from this morning.

***Where r u? Dinner 2nite with Em and me? J**

I decide to answer him quickly before I read the unknowns, who I assume are Edward's.

***Can't do dinner. Drinks at 5:30? B**

He answers back immediately, telling me to meet them at a bar near Emmett's condo.

Finally, the moment of truth. I have a short moment of panic when I think he could be giving me the kiss-off via text message, but I can't not look. I open the first one from the unknown number, vaguely aware that Angela is still sitting on the other end of my couch, still studying the picture of Edward – or maybe reading the article. Riiiiight.

He opens with 'Stella', which makes me smile and then gives his address and directions from my apartment to his…house. It has to be a house. In Green Lake. Nice. I will have to google-earth it in a minute.

The second text came soon after the first.

***Stella, hoping to see your spectacular ass in jeans tonight. **

I giggle, not realizing that Angela is peeking at my phone screen until she starts talking.

"Who's Stella?" She sounds confused.

"Me."

"Why does he call you Stella?" she asks, still perplexed.

"Because I call him Ned," I answer. I explain why I call him Ned because I know that will be her next question, but I don't tell her about my Ned-clamation during sex…even though she might have heard it through her wall anyway.

"Oh my god. Not even 24 hours and you guys already have little pet names for each other. That's just about the cutest fucking thing I've ever heard," she says.

"It's not like that," I mumble, feeling myself start to blush.

"Okay, whatever. Let's go find you some jeans for your spectacular ass," she says, hopping up and heading toward my room. "Coming?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna just answer him real quick. I'll be right there," I call to her.

***Ned, u were drunk. No spectacular ass here. **

As soon as I get to my room, I get another text from him. Angela looks at me, grinning, with raised eyebrows.

***Trust me. It was spectacular in the skirt and out of it. **

***Shameless flattery makes me suspicious. What do u want? **

***You. Bring an overnight bag? Please?**

Shit…what do I do? Is it too slutty if I agree? Oh, hell, who am I kidding? I let the man give me 12 orgasms last night and had sex with him four times. I'm already in this far, might as well go for the royal slut flush. I ask Angela for her opinion.

"Before I saw the picture of him, I would say no…definitely no."

"And now that you have seen the picture?" I ask, biting my lower lip.

"I'll pack for you," she laughs.

***OK, but no guarantees about staying. **

He answers immediately.

***Not everyone comes with a guarantee like I do. See you soon.**

I laugh, but don't reply, putting my phone away and heading to the shower while Angela really does pack my small duffle bag for me.

**

* * *

**

Angela stays to oversee my appearance for tonight, helping me choose the dark jeans and black sleeveless, boatneck top I'm wearing. It's clingy across my chest and at my hips but not tight anywhere else. Angela says I look tempting but not trashy. I'm unsure about wearing it, afraid I'll look like I'm trying too hard. I want to look casually sexy, not overtly trampy, even though I probably passed the tramp threshold 12 times last night. Maybe I should get a tramp stamp tattoo to make it official. Angela watches me with amusement as I fidget in front of the mirror, then I finally give up and announce I'm ready to leave. She opens the door for me, smiles at me and hands me my overnight bag, like a mom handing her child a lunchbox on the first day of school.

Fifteen minutes later, I walk into the bar to meet Em and Jasper. I stop inside the door and look around for them, then hear Em's whistle from across the room. I turn and walk toward them, smiling.

"Baby Swan, you're lookin' hot tonight," Jasper says.

Emmett is looking at me appraisingly with narrowed eyes. "You had sex," he states.

My eyes widen. How does he do that? My resulting blush basically confirms his assertion and they both start laughing at me.

"Do you have some sixth sex sense or something?" I mumble, sitting on the stool in between them.

"Naw. You just look all content and glowy. The same way the ladies look after leaving my bed," he says, smirking. "So, who's the lucky guy?"

"Not telling," I say. "It was random, but he was hot."

"Were you safe?" Jasper asks. "Do we need to get you a morning after pill or anything?"

"Jesus, Dad," I hiss under my breath, rolling my eyes. "We were safe, I was careful, it's no big deal."

"Is he the reason you can't hang with us tonight?" Emmett asks.

"Yes," I answer hesitantly. "We're having dinner."

"So you like him," Jas states, nodding and smiling at me.

"Yes, but we're not dating. We're just fucking. You guys know I'm not ready to date," I say. "Aren't either of you going to get me a goddamn beer?"

"On it," Em says, getting up. "You get details," he tells Jas as he walks away.

"You heard him. You've got to give me something to tell him," he laughs.

"Hmmm. Well, he stayed 13 hours and it was the best sex I've ever had," I answer.

"Hell, Baby Swan. Then date the man," he exclaims.

"I'm not ready to put my heart out there again, Jas," I say softly. "It's not an issue for him, anyway. He doesn't date either."

"Oh, good, you're perfect for each other. Two idiots avoiding relationships," he says, teasing me…I think. I raise one eyebrow at him, but don't reply.

Thankfully, Emmett comes back with my beer then and the conversation shifts to business. He asks how the meeting went at Hale yesterday. I respond that I didn't get to meet with Mr. Hale, but met with the executive vice-president and I was able to answer all his questions. Emmett is looking at me funny again.

"Fuck, Swan. It's him, isn't it?" he asks. It's like he can freaking read my mind tonight.

"What's him?" I ask, trying to look innocent.

"He's the random but hot guy. Damn. You never just do anything the easy way, do you?" he asks, shaking his head at me.

I am momentarily afraid that they will be pissed at me for sleeping with someone who has the potential to make or break this burgeoning business relationship, but, instead, they both think it's funny.

"It's not funny, you guys," I say, but I can't help laughing a little myself.

"Well, he must have really impressed you to get you to sleep with him the day you met. I've never known you to do that in the seven years I've known you," Jasper chimes in. "Hell, you were practically engaged to Jake before you let him down there. How many guys have you even slept with in your life?"

I know I'm blushing again. I hate talking about this shit with them, but they'll only tease me more if I try to change the subject.

"I am so not talking numbers with you, and Jake and I weren't engaged when we first slept together. I just wanted to wait until I was sure…then I learned you're never sure so I might as well just do what I want. And I definitely wanted to do random-guy-from-last-night," I snicker.

"Name?" Emmett asks. I just look at him. "You know I can get it off their website. You might as well save me the trouble."

"Edward Cullen," I answer sullenly.

"Oh, I just heard something about him….he's from a really wealthy family, but doesn't get along with his father or something. His family owns a company that makes microchips, I think, but he won't have anything to do with it. Did he say anything about that?" Jasper asks me.

"No, Jasper. We didn't bond over our mutual fucked up families. We just screwed until we couldn't walk," I answer.

"No need to be sarcastic, Baby Swan," he chides me, looking at me strangely.

"I wasn't. Did you miss the part where I told you how long he stayed? We didn't sleep that much," I say.

"Okay, I think I've heard enough about your overactive night," Emmett pipes up. Jasper is still looking at me funny.

"What?" I say to him, sounding kind of snotty.

"You're being exceptionally crude and sarcastic, Bella. What are you hiding?" he asks.

"Fucking nothing, Jasper. Why don't you give it a damn rest?" I say testily.

"Because you only act like this when you're avoiding something. How much do you like this guy?" he asks, searching my face with his laser beam blue eyes.

"Enough to be his fuck buddy, which is more than I like you two dickheads at the moment….well, I don't like you two that way ever…that doesn't sound right, but you know what I mean," I seethe. Emmett mumbles something about not doing anything wrong.

"More irrational behavior. You're definitely concealing something," Jasper says, nodding at me.

"You didn't sign some contract to do all the ad work for free, did you?" Emmett asks. I know he's kidding, but they are seriously pissing me off now. Tears spring to my eyes – side effect of Jake. I used to be tougher than this, but once my tear ducts started flowing after the broken engagement, they never wanted to stop.

"What is wrong with you two? You've been bugging me to sleep with someone for a year now. I finally do and you just give me shit about it," I say, trying not to let the tears escape.

"We've been bugging you to date someone, not to just screw someone. You're letting Jake control you – again – by turning off your emotions," Jasper says.

"I'm not ready, Jasper," I whisper, looking at him intently with my teary eyes.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Let's drop it," he says, leaning over from his stool to kiss my cheek.

Emmett steers the conversation back toward safe subjects, and tells funny stories until both Jasper and I are laughing hysterically, forgetting our earlier tense conversation.

* * *

An hour later, I drive to Edward's following the directions he texted me. Jesus, I love this neighborhood.

I'm glad I got to have a beer with my boys. I think I would have been a nervous wreck otherwise by this point. Instead, I feel oddly calm. I find Edward's house easily. It's a refurbished Craftsman – with a front porch and a huge bigleaf maple tree in the yard. I don't even make it up the front porch steps before he's got the door open, smiling at me, looking even hotter than last night in jeans and a dark green button down shirt. I smile back.

"Nice place, Ned," I say.

"Thanks. Come in," he answers, stepping aside so I can enter. As soon as I'm in, he grabs me around the waist and kisses me hard. I kiss him back, thinking about how it's only been seven hours since I saw him, but I kind of missed him, which is ridiculous since we're only screwing and not dating. And I really don't know him at all.

"It's only been seven hours since I saw you, but I seriously forgot how pretty you are. You look great, Bella," he says, almost echoing my own thoughts. I blush and mumble a thank you, as he chuckles and pulls me into a hug.

"So, I made margaritas – do you even like margaritas? I can fix you something else, but I thought we'd go eat Mexican food and maybe margaritas would be good to have here first, so I could show you around the house," he says, apparently having caught my diarrhea of the mouth disease. I didn't know it was contagious.

I laugh before I answer. "I like margaritas. And I'd love for you to show me around," I answer calmly. "What are you so nervous about, Ned?"

"I don't know. I feel better now that you're here, though," he smiles. "Come on, kitchen first."

He takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen, passing through the living room on the way. There are a few framed pictures around – several of a little girl with long blonde curls and big blue eyes. There's a dark-haired woman in some of the pictures with her. I try to slow down and look at them, but he keeps walking and pulling me along behind him.

In the kitchen, he pours us both margaritas while I look around. A set of French doors lead into the backyard and I walk over to them to look out. The yard is enclosed with a six foot privacy fence. A hot tub and a fire pit are on the large patio and a cute playhouse is farther out in the yard. It's like a miniature version of this house, even painted the same forest green color with tan trim. I feel my heart drop into my stomach. Pictures of a little girl…a playhouse in the yard….Edward is a DILF.

"How old is she?" I ask quietly, planning my escape. Paul Simon's "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" is running through my head. Should I slip out the back, Jack? What if there's no gate? Make a new plan, Stan.

"How old is who?" Answering with a question. Clever avoidance tactic, but I won't be deterred.

"Your daughter?" I ask, annoyed.

"My what?" he asks, sounding confused. "Oh! You mean Riley."

"Riley," I repeat. Cute name. Cute kid. But I don't want to be involved with a daddy, no matter how much magic he can do with his fingers and tongue. Children scare the everliving fuck out of me. I can tolerate Jasper's nieces and nephews, but that's only because I love him so much. And because I only see them once or twice a year when Jasper drags me to his parents' ranch in Texas for a visit.

"She's not my daughter. She's my niece," he says, stepping up behind me and reaching around to hand me my drink.

"Thanks," I say, feeling stupid now for questioning him…especially in the tone I used to do it.

"You're welcome. You think I wouldn't have told you if I had a kid?" he asks.

"I don't know what I thought. I jumped to conclusions. I've only known you one day and we didn't talk about your life all that much. I was just surprised that you wouldn't have mentioned it, I guess," I say.

"Well, I'm not a dad, but I would like to think if I was, that I would tell everyone about her…or him."

"You have a playhouse at your house for a niece? I mean, that's sweet and all, but seems a little over the top," I say.

"She lived here. Her mom, my sister, and her. They lived here from when she was two until about four months ago."

"How old is she now?"

"Four. She'll be five in June. We have the same birthday," he says. I can hear the smile in his voice. I suddenly want to see the smile, so I turn to look up at him, smiling myself when I see how wide and proud it is.

"Can I look at the playhouse?" I ask, wanting to make amends now for my DILF snob behavior. I think if Edward was a DILF, I might have to make an exception for him.

"Sure," he says, unlocking and opening the doors. We walk outside and I glance at the fire pit; it's stocked with wood. A teak couch and four teak chairs surround the fire pit, all loaded with dark green cushions and tons of green and blue printed pillows.

The hot tub cover is padlocked. I look up at him quizzically.

"I was nervous with Riley here. Alice – that's my sister – said I was overprotective and overreacting. That's partially why she moved out. She's very laidback in her parenting style, although not in any other aspect of her life. I was making her crazy," he says, smiling like he's a little proud of that fact.

"So you enjoyed making her crazy?" I ask, grinning up at him, as we start walking toward the playhouse.

"Not as much as I enjoyed making you crazy last night," he says quietly. That woke the girls. I wonder if I can get dehydrated from expelling so much moisture down there yesterday and today. Maybe I'd better drink extra water at dinner.

"And this morning," I say, sipping my drink and purposely not looking at him. "Can I go in?" We are stopped in front of the playhouse. It looks like it's two stories, but when Edward opens the door it's just one, but one that an adult can stand in.

"After you," he says, letting me go in. I duck down to go through the short door and then stand up inside. It's one large room with a little table in one corner and doll bunkbeds built into another wall. Two plaid picnic blankets are neatly folded underneath. There are several giant floor cushions propped in another corner.

"This is adorable! Did you have this custom built?" I ask excitedly.

"Kind of. I built it," he says.

I look at him disbelievingly, but can quickly tell that he's being honest. "Ned, you are a man of many talents," I say, looking up at him and smiling.

He smiles back and bends down to kiss me.

I pull back and step away. "Hang on," I say, lifting my glass to my lips and finishing my drink. I set my glass down on the floor and step back toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling his lips back to mine as he chuckles.

"If we don't go to dinner now, I'm not going to want to," he says, pulling back to smile at me. "You still okay with walking? It's not supposed to rain tonight."

"Yup. Let's go, Ned," I say, bending down to get my empty glass.

As I'm stooping down to go back through the playhouse door, he reaches out with one hand to grab my ass. "Thanks for wearing the jeans, Stella. Your spectacular ass looks fantastic in them," he says huskily.

"Ned, if you keep talking to me like that, there will be consequences," I say, turning around to look at him, desire coursing through my body.

He steps toward me and reaches his hand into my hair, gripping it and pulling gently as he lowers his mouth to mine again. He licks along my lower lip before thrusting his tongue into my mouth. I tangle my tongue with his as I wrap my free hand around his back, pressing hard between his shoulder blades. He lets go of my hair and slowly slides his hand down my back, stopping right at the top of my ass and pulling my hips closer to his.

"Fuck, Bella. I want you…I've never wanted anyone this much before," he murmurs against my lips.

"I want you, too," I say, moving my hand around to his chest and then sliding it lower.

"Shit…if I let you do that, you'll never get dinner," he says, grabbing my hand with his and leaning back to smile at me. "Let's go eat and then maybe we can revisit this conversation."

"You're going to walk around with that?" I ask teasingly, rubbing myself against the front of his jeans a little.

"No, I'm going to think about my cleaning lady, Mrs. Cope, for a few minutes and that will take care of the problem," he says slyly.

"What's wrong with Mrs. Cope?"

"Nothing, except she has a 'stache…and a hairy mole on her chin," he says, trying not to laugh. I laugh, too. "See? Problem almost solved." He leans down to quickly kiss me – lips firmly closed.

I put one arm around his neck to hold his face close to mine. "That's good. I probably shouldn't tell you then how completely fucking wet you make me and how I don't know if I can possibly wait until after dinner to have you," I say quietly, my lips touching the shell of his ear. "No, I definitely shouldn't tell you that." I let him go and turn to start walking back to the house.

He catches me in four strides and slides his arm around my waist. "You are evil and you will pay for that later," he says, smiling down at me.

"I'm counting on it," I reply, putting my arm around him, too.

* * *

We walk the five blocks to the restaurant, talking and laughing, but not touching anymore. I don't know what his reason is – maybe he doesn't want to look like he's on a date…because we're not – but my reason is that I really can't stand it. If I touch him, then I'll want to kiss him and if I start kissing him, I'll be dragging him into the bushes before we make it to the restaurant.

We stick to fairly safe subjects: where we each went to college (he went Ivy League, not surprisingly), what books and movies we like, favorite and least-liked foods. When we get to the restaurant, we are seated in a small semi-circle booth.

"I want to sit close to you. Scoot over here," he asks, scooting toward the middle. I roll my eyes but scoot toward him. He pulls me to his side and leaves his arm behind me on the back of the booth.

We order drinks and dive into the chips and salsa. He leans over to kiss me a couple of times and I have a fleeting thought that this really fucking feels like a date, but I guess as long as neither of us considers it a date, it's okay. Right?

"So, I know you have a sister now. Any other siblings?" I ask. "I'm not trying to pry or anything. You don't have to answer."

He smiles at me. "It's okay. I don't mind answering questions. You revealed some stuff last night so I should, too. And I don't have any proposal-only questions limitation tonight with you, do I?"

I shake my head, smiling at him.

"I don't have any other surviving siblings. I had a younger brother, but he only lived a few hours. So, it's just Alice and me," he answers. "What about you?"

"Just me. My parents decided they couldn't stand each other when I was a few months old, so that was it," I say, swallowing and then taking a drink of my margarita. And a big drink of water…rehydrating for later.

"Are you close to them?" he asks, looking intently at me.

"Not really. I mean, my dad, I guess more than my mom. She's pretty content to see me once a year and talk to me on the phone or email once in awhile. My dad at least calls me every week to check in, even though the conversations only last a couple of minutes," I say. "Are you close to your parents?"

"I don't get along very well with my dad, so no. My mom passed away a long time ago," he answers.

"Edward, I'm so sorry," I say, putting my hand on his leg under the table.

"It's okay," he says, putting his hand on top of mine and intertwining our fingers. His thigh flexes beneath our hands and it's 'Girls Gone Wild – Seattle Edition' in my pants. The girls are incorrigible tonight. I don't know how to get control of them again now.

"You're close with your sister, though, and Riley," I prompt, reminding myself that we are in public and I can't molest him under the table…or can I?

He smiles. "Yes. Alice and I were always close, but we got even closer after Riley was born. Honestly, it killed me a little when they moved out. I was so used to having them in the house…having the noise, seeing Riley every day. They didn't move that far away, but it's not the same. They come by a lot, though."

I try to move our joined hands up higher on his thigh, but he holds my hand in place, raising his eyebrows at me.

"What?" I say. "I was listening to your story. You miss having your sister and niece live with you."

"Yes, I do. Do you miss having your fiancé live with you?" he asks.

"Well, that's certainly a mood killer question," I say, pulling my hand away from his and removing it from his leg. "Can't a girl get in a little under-the-table groping in peace?"

He laughs and leans close. "Be patient, Bella. You didn't answer my question. Do you miss him?"

I purse my lips to the side, trying to figure out the answer to that one. "Hang on, I'm evaluating. I rarely make myself think about this shit."

"Take your time," he says, laughing, his green gaze soft. He grabs my errant hand and re-laces our fingers, resting them once again on his leg.

"I don't miss _him_. You know what I miss? Don't look at me like that. I'm not talking about sex. I miss someone being there at night to talk to – even though he was never very interested in what I was doing. It's boring eating dinner by myself most nights, you know? But that's not likely to change anytime soon, and I'm kind of used to it now. I really like my neighbor and if her boyfriend isn't around, we spend the evenings together. Em and Jas are around some. And I usually work late once or twice a week. But I really don't miss Jake, I never really did – which is weird and sad and a little pathetic since I almost married him."

"Did you love him?" he asks quietly, watching my face intently for my answer.

"Yes," I answer hesitantly. "But…I don't know how to explain it. We had another couple who we hung out with a lot. They were constantly touching, and the way they looked at each other – they were so intense, so devoted. They always had fun together. Jake and I didn't have that. I envied that other couple. God, I'm rambling again, huh?"

"Yes, but I like it. Keep going," he says.

"Plus, Em and Jas didn't like Jake. They never said all that much, but Jake really didn't want me hanging out with them and that bugged them. And Emmett told me I didn't fall in love with Jake – I slid. He thinks love should be all-consuming, passionate – and we didn't have that. We had each other because neither of us had found anyone else we liked more."

"What about now?"

"Now I don't believe in that shit anymore. I thought I knew so much about love and relationships, only to discover I didn't even know what was going on in my own fucking bed. It was heartbreaking and humiliating in a way that I'm not sure I'll ever forget. I'm not sure I want to forget," I answer, trying to keep the bitterness out of my tone.

"Bella, you're beautiful, intelligent, funny. There would be a thousand guys lined up to date you if you'd let them. You deserve that – to have a guy who can love you passionately. That's why I'm hesitant to ask you if you want to continue with me – because I can't give you those things," Edward says softly, looking down at our joined hands on his leg.

"I don't want those things. I want no-strings, fun, sexy times. If we continue this," I say, pausing to wave my hand between us again like I did last night in the cab, "I don't expect or want any of that hearts and flowers crap from you. You know, if we want to hang out, see each other, we can. If one of us is busy, no big deal. The only thing I don't want is to be one of the harem. If there are going to be other women, I'm out."

"There won't be anyone else," he says, looking back up and gazing at me with those intense green eyes.

"Well, if we're really going to do this, I think we should agree to be completely honest, then, and if one of us wants out, no hard feelings. If one of us meets someone else or something. I promise I will be honest with you. You can trust me," I say, feeling tingly all over that he wants to continue having hot, crazy sex with me.

"I promise I will be honest with you, too. And you can trust me," he says, smiling crookedly at me.

"So we agree? Monogamous fucking until one of us calls it off?" I ask.

"Agreed," he answers, leaning in to kiss me again.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading – please review and let me know what you think.

Next chapter should later this week – with citrus.


	5. The Moons of Uranus

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

* * *

I feel giddy throughout the rest of dinner. Our conversation flows easily now that we have our agreement in place. When we leave the restaurant to walk back to Edward's, he hooks his pinky finger around mine and smiles down at me, asking what I did the rest of the day after he left.

I tell him that Angela came by for a while and that I met Em and Jas for drinks right before coming over to his house. I also 'fess up that Emmett is my boss on the Hale Software account, so Edward will probably meet him during the upcoming weeks if we have more meetings. I'm not sure why, but I don't tell him that Jas is the co-owner of the company. It feels weird not to tell Edward, but I'm still a little stung by what Jasper said to me about Jake – and I childishly refuse to speak about him.

"Shit! Meeting Emmett will be kind of like meeting your dad, huh?" Edward muses, smirking at me.

"No, not really. _Emmett_ doesn't carry a gun," I say nonchalantly, watching for the reaction. I am not disappointed when Ned looks at me with wide eyes then swallows loudly before asking what the fuck I'm talking about.

"My dad's a cop," I explain, laughing. "He lives three hours away, though, and I don't see him that often. Chances are you'll never even meet him."

He frowns at me, but doesn't respond to that statement.

"What about Jas? Will I ever meet him?" he asks.

Grrr. I don't want to talk about him. "I don't know. We're irritated with each other right now, and he's out of town on business and vacation for most of the next month," I say, looking down at the sidewalk, wondering if Edward and I will still be monogamously fucking in a month.

"Why are you irritated with him? I thought he was your best friend," he says, stopping to face me on the sidewalk, then grasping my chin between his thumb and index finger and tilting my head back to look up at him.

"He is. We had a difference of opinion and got snippy with each other. It's not important," I answer, shrugging one shoulder.

"Snippy? Is he gay?" Edward asks.

I throw my head back and laugh at that. "No, he's not gay. I told you that we made out before."

"Well, I'm just saying, hetero guys don't usually get snippy."

"Um, yes, they do. They just don't call it 'snippy'. And that's my word, not his," I reply.

"Does he have feelings for you?" he asks quietly.

I shake my head. "Not romantic feelings, no. He was acting overprotective and annoying and wanting me to get in touch with my feelings and shit. We argued about my unwillingness to date…to risk having a relationship with more than friendship involved."

"Ah. So he's not going to like me…this situation I'm putting you in," he says.

I sigh heavily and try not to sound too harsh as I respond. "First of all, Ned, no one 'put' me in this situation except myself. I am a rational adult, capable of thinking and making decisions on my own. And you should probably know right the fuck now that the fastest way to piss me off is to act like I don't have a damn brain in my head and have to be told what to do or guided into making correct choices. Secondly, it doesn't matter what Jasper likes. _I _like our agreement. Or I did until you decided to be all 'I'm in charge and I'm putting you in this situation' on me. And I fucking hate to repeat myself, so I won't be warning you again not to treat me like some delicate freaking flower who needs a fainting couch and a hand fan because she suffers from the vapors anytime someone asks her a difficult question. I make my own decisions and I can take the consequences. Understood? Finally, there's no reason for your worlds to collide anytime soon, so you don't have to worry about Jasper liking or disliking you," I say, looking up at him, waiting for his reaction to my diatribe.

Fuck. I think Ned's speechless. He's staring down at me with his mouth agape and his eyes wide. Is he not used to women who think for themselves and take responsibility for their own choices? Is he used to women who let him take the lead in everything? Or maybe he's not used to being sort-of-yelled-at on the sidewalk by a woman who most likely looks as fucking nutty as her tirade sounds.

He shakes his head and mumbles a lengthy stream of something under his breath. The only words I can understand are 'sexy, angry ramblings' and 'jeans too fucking tight'. Then he smiles crookedly at me, kisses me quickly and we start walking again.

When we get to his house, he asks if I'm going to stay. He seems a little hesitant…maybe nervous….or maybe afraid to ask me after my little rant during the walk back.

"Yeah, I guess. If you still want me to," I answer, biting my lower lip, suddenly nervous.

"I want you to stay," he says, smiling crookedly at me again. That's quickly becoming my favorite facial expression of his. He looks boyish…mischievous…when he smiles that way. He follows me to my car and takes my bag from me when I get it from the passenger seat. When we get inside, he puts my bag on the stairs and pulls me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me. "What do you want to do now?"

I lean back to smirk up at him, and he bursts out laughing. "You have a one-track mind, Stella…a dirty, one-track mind," he says, then leans down to whisper in my ear. "And I like it."

"Really? Because I was going to suggest that we do shots of tequila until we pass out," I say.

"Hey, I'm game for it if you are," he says, laughing again. "Two shots each and then we'll talk…outside by the fire?"

"Why don't we just take the bottle out there with us?" I suggest.

"Sounds good. You want to grab the blanket off the couch? I'll get the tequila from the freezer and meet you outside," he says. "If that's okay." I think he added that because he's a little scared that I'm going to give him another verse of 'I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar', which, by the way, is a fucking awful song – and one of my mom's favorites.

I chuckle a little and tell him that's fine, then ask where the bathroom is. By the time I get outside, he's got the fire started. We sit down on the teak-frame couch and he wraps the blanket around my shoulders then turns me sideways, swinging my legs across his lap. He opens the tequila and hands me the bottle. "Ladies first…unless that's going to piss you off," he laughs.

I raise the bottle to my lips and take a sip, the Patron sliding down smoothly. I hand him the bottle. "Semi-assholes second," I say, laughing. "Ned, there is nothing wrong with having good manners and a sense of chivalry, which is hot when it's done in a non-insulting way. And, you, my friend, are definitely chivalrous in a hot way."

He pulls me in to kiss me before taking a drink. We pass the bottle back and forth again and Ned takes my shoes off and tosses them onto the ground.

"So, Ned, tell me about your past. What kind of relationship disaster made you swear off love?" I ask.

"There wasn't one particular incident or woman. There were a couple of overly dramatic girlfriends – years ago – that kind of soured me on the whole dating experience. And when Riley and Alice were living here, I didn't crave the companionship anymore since I had it with the two of them. Plus, I didn't want to be away at night in case they needed me and I didn't want random women here around them. It was just easier to have no-strings sex affairs."

I nod and take another sip of Patron. "Have you ever been in love?"

He looks at me and nods softly. "Yes. Once. A very long time ago – during college."

"What happened? Why didn't you stay together?" I ask.

He looks away, staring into the flames gently crackling in the firepit. "It was that moment at the end of college– you know, when you're about to graduate and you choose what you want the next phase of your life to look like. She wanted glamour, excitement. I wanted to help Alice. Alice's teen years were rough without our mom…and dad was never much help. She needed someone stable, someone who would put her first. So I came home. My ex chased her dream to New York," he says. His face conveys no emotion. I wonder how he really feels about her now…if he misses her…if she's the one who broke him.

"I'm sorry you lost her, Edward," I say, reaching out a hand to touch the side of his face.

"I'm not. I saw her in New York last year. She's completely different and not at all someone that I would be happy spending time with now," he says. He looks over at me and leans in to kiss me gently, holding my head to his with a hand on the back of my neck. "You, on the other hand, are thoroughly enjoyable."

And giggly. I am definitely starting to feel myself slide toward tipsytown. "Ned," I say, trying to look at him seriously, "you've only known me one day."

"I know, Stella, but it's been an extremely satisfying experience…in lots of ways," he says, leaning down to run his lips along my jaw and down my neck. I let him go for a minute, enjoying the rush of desire flowing through me alongside the sweet warmth from the tequila. Then I push his head up.

"How old are you?" I ask.

"Thirty. How old are you?"

"Twenty-six. How did you get to be an executive vp at such a young age?" I ask.

He chuckles humorlessly. "Long story. I'll try to give you the short version. The Hales were good friends of my parents. Jack offered me a job when I moved back after college. I worked my ass off, but I am also sure it was partly given out of fondness for my parents, my mother especially. And also partly because he wanted something from me."

"What did he want?"

"Two things: An in with my family's microchip company and for me to date his daughter, Rosalie. He wants our families, well, really our companies, tied together."

"So did he get what he wanted?"

"No. My father runs the microchip company – I don't want anything to do with it and I'm not interested in making some package deal arrangement between the two companies. And Rosalie Hale is the most conceited, self-absorbed, annoying person I've ever met in my life. There's no way I wanted to date her, even though Jack kept trying to throw us together. I finally told him that I don't date. He probably thinks I'm gay," Ned says, seemingly pleased at the thought.

"Well, Ned, if you are, then you deserve an Oscar for last night's performance," I say. He chuckles softly as I lean toward him and kiss him.

"Are you warm enough, Bella?" he asks, one hand still resting on the nape of my neck, under my hair. He rubs his other hand up the outside of my leg where it's draped across his lap.

"Yup, Ned. I'm nice and toasty," I reply. I lift the bottle of Patron to my lips once more and sip, then run my tongue around the top of the bottle to catch a drop that sloshed out when I stopped drinking. Ned is watching my mouth intently and breathing a little fast. He's such a predictable boy.

I lean toward him and kiss him again, using my teeth this time to tug at his bottom lip a bit until he groans quietly. Ned spent so much time ensuring my pleasure last night that I didn't really get to explore his body like I wanted. That's about to change.

"Can anyone see us out here?" I ask, moving my mouth to his neck.

"No. The trees give good cover on all three sides of the yard."

That's what I thought. I sure as hell can't see out of the yard. "Good to know," I respond against his neck.

I reach behind me to grab one of the throw pillows and toss it to the ground. I swing my legs off his lap and scoot off the couch, pushing his legs apart and kneeling on the pillow between them. I smile up at him as I slowly unbutton his shirt and slide it off while I kiss my way down his chest and abdomen.

He inhales sharply before asking, "What are you doing, Bella?"

"Jesus, Einstein. How'd you get into Dartmouth?" I answer, grinning slyly at him and unbuttoning his pants then bending to run the tip of my tongue from his navel to the top of his boxers.

"You don't have to do this," he says, sounding like he's having trouble catching his breath. His hands are white-knuckled, gripping the edge of the couch cushion on either side of his legs.

"I want to, Edward," I say, kissing his stomach again and tugging his pants until he lifts up enough for me to slide them down, pulling the boxers with them.

I grasp his cock at the base and look down to see the little drops of moisture leaking from the tip. With the index finger of my other hand, I gather the drops then raise my finger to my lips, licking it off, delighting in the sharp expletive he mutters under his breath.

I bend down to lick his head, swirling my tongue around, memorizing the ridges, listening for his responses to what I'm doing, where he most likes to be touched.

"Jesus, Bella, please," he breathes, gathering my hair with his hands and holding it with one hand to the side so he can see me better. He strokes the area between my ear and my jaw with his other hand, waiting.

Still holding him with one hand, I slowly slide him into my mouth, stopping before I've taken all of him and moving up and down a little. When I move all the way up, almost releasing him and then circling his tip with my tongue again, he chuckles breathlessly, gripping my hair a little more tightly until I raise my eyes to look up at him.

"Quit fucking teasing me, Stella," he says, smiling down at me, his green eyes shining with lust and mirth. His eyes, I think, will do me in every time. I moan, feeling the girls go giggly down below and release all the moisture I refueled with during dinner. I'll be dehydrated again by midnight.

I lower my eyes back to what's right in front of me and slowly take him into my mouth again, all the way this time. He grunts as his cock hits the back of my throat.

"Christ, Bella. I can't believe how good that feels," he says, his voice raspy. He lets me set the pace, moving my mouth slowly at first, letting me take my time to learn him the way he learned me last night.

"Should I try to ramble about something?" he asks. I chuckle deep in my chest, which makes him moan…which makes me moan.

"Fuck…Bella…please," he groans. I look up at him without slowing. His eyes are heavy-lidded, still staring down at me. He keeps the hand in my hair, but moves his other hand to grab my hand that's gripping his thigh, intertwining our fingers.

"Faster, baby….ohfuck….Bella….Jesus," he cries louder, shifting his hips to meet me as I do what he asks. He explodes in my mouth, grunting, squeezing the hand that he's holding, watching me as I swallow before slowly pulling away and then placing gentle kisses on the top of one of his legs.

I lay my head down sideways on his thigh and smile up at him, glad that I could make him feel as good – unselfishly – as he made me feel last night.

"Come here," he says, his voice hoarse. I stand in front of him and he reaches for my thighs, gripping them gently and guiding me to straddle his lap. "Thank you. You didn't have to."

"I owe you some thank yous for last night, Ned," I say, smiling down at him. "Besides, I told you I wanted to. You're pretty irresistible." I kiss him gently with my lips closed – not sure about how he feels about putting his tongue in my mouth given what was just in there. But he immediately deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue in and groaning quietly as his hands roam over my back and hips. He slides them around to my sides and up my arms and neck, finally stopping when he's cupping the sides of my jaw.

He pulls away from the kiss and opens his eyes to meet mine. His are still dark with desire. "God, Stella, you're so fucking beautiful," he says.

I straighten up and pull my shirt off over my head, then lean forward again to kiss him. He kisses me back eagerly, but keeps his hands safely on my back and arms.

"Edward, touch me," I breathe. "Please."

"If I start, I'm not going to be able to stop and as much as I'd like to fuck you right here, I don't have anything with me," he answers. "Let's go upstairs."

I straighten up again to look at him. "Were you being honest when you said you're clean?"

"Yes. I was tested in March and I haven't been with anyone since then until last night."

"Well, I'm clean, too, I told you. And I'm on the pill. Let's stay here…please," I ask again. "I like it out here beside the fire – and it's a clear night in fucking Seattle. I mean, I can see like four stars up there."

"You trust me that much?" he asks, incredulous.

"Yes, you told me I could…that you'd be honest. I guess the question is…do you trust me?"

He doesn't answer me, simply reaching for the button of my jeans and pushing me gently backwards until I stand up. He peels my jeans and thong down my legs. I step out of them as he shoves his own pants the rest of the way down his legs and kicks them off, leaning forward at the same time to place kisses across my abdomen. When he has his pants off, he runs both hands up my inner thighs then into my center, pushing two fingers inside me while the thumb of his other hand massages my clit.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he murmurs against my stomach.

"Don't be so conceited. It's an involuntary bodily reaction," I say breathily, barely containing my whimper and smiling down at him when he looks up with a smirk.

"Oh, really? It has nothing to do with me, huh?" he says, then leans forward to tongue my navel at the same time he pushes his long, magic fingers in as far as they'll go – which is pretty fucking far because his damn fingers are so long – and strokes the spot that no one else ever found, not that I let very many try. I gasp and have to put both hands on his shoulders to keep from falling down.

"Okay, okay, Ned. You win. It has a little to do with you," I gasp.

He chuckles as he sits back and pulls me forward to straddle his lap again.

"You okay? You're not too cold?" he asks, reaching up to push my hair behind my ears as he looks intently at me.

"I'm not cold," I answer, reaching behind my back to unhook my bra. Edward draws the straps down my arms and then puts the bra down beside us on the couch.

"So this is me, too, then?" he smirks, reaching for my hardened nipples as he leans his head forward into my neck to nuzzle the spot right under my ear. "Or is it another involuntary reaction that has nothing to do with me?"

"I'm unbelievably hesitant to answer that. You're already such an arrogant semi-asshole," I reply, smiling to myself, running my hands through his silky hair. He chuckles against my neck and lightly pinches each nipple. I reach one hand between us and trace his nipples as he kisses down my chest, finally taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking gently, rhythmically. He slides one hand back to my sex, spreading my wetness around my clit and stroking me as I gasp and move against his hand.

"Jesus, Bella. I need to be inside you. You're sure this is okay? No condom?"

"I'm sure."

I raise up, placing my hands on his shoulders while he positions himself, then I lower myself slowly, taking him in. He inhales sharply when I'm almost all the way down. I gasp out a half sob and lower my forehead to his shoulder.

"Stella? You all right?" he asks, his voice concerned.

"Ohmygod, yes, I'm fine. It just feels so good," I say. He grabs both sides of my face and pulls me to him, kissing me passionately, plunging his tongue into my mouth again and again. He moves one arm to wrap around my waist, tugging on me gently, wanting me to move. I sit still.

"Move on me, Bella," he whispers against my lips. I shake my head minutely. "Fuck. Are you trying to torture me?"

"No, I'm just not good at being on top," I say, pulling my lips away from his and looking over his shoulder at the hot tub behind him.

"I'll help you, baby," he says, kissing me again, gazing at me with the green eyes that I trust – maybe more than I should after just one day. "Christ, you feel so fucking amazing. Just let me guide you until you feel comfortable doing it on your own, okay?"

"'kay," I answer, biting down on my lower lip.

I gaze back up at the sky as Edward kisses my neck and moves both hands to my ass, pulling me up and then pushing me back down gently.

"Come on, Bella. Ramble on about something," he says against my neck. I can feel his lips curl into a smile and I answer with one of my own, even though he can't see it.

"Did you know that the moons of the other planets in our solar system are named for Greek and Roman mythology? Except the moons of Uranus, which are named for Shakespearean characters," I say, feeling him begin to laugh against my collarbone. He's still guiding me, but I'm getting a little braver and moving a little more on my own.

"No, I didn't know that….and that sounded dirty," he says, looking up at me.

"Gross. I wasn't even thinking that way," I say, leaning down to kiss him.

"I know. That makes it even more dirty. Jesus, Bella," he whispers against my lips. "I can't believe the shit you come up with."

"I can't help the way my crazy brain is. You liked it last night," I say.

"I like it tonight, too," he says, raising one hand to cup a breast, circling my nipple with his thumb. I whimper and feel my hips really take over, no longer needing his guidance. "Tell me more."

"Not sure if I'm capable now," I say, gasping as I feel myself rushing toward an orgasm.

"Which Shakespearean characters?" he asks.

"Ohmygod….um….Juliet….Prospero….Ariel….I don't know – there're like 20 or something."

He grunts against my neck. "Come on, baby. Give me more."

"OhgodEdward….Puck….Ophelia….Sycorax….Jesus, Edward….I can't," I say, panting, my body moving faster over his. I hope he meant more Shakespeare. Otherwise, that sounded extra idiotic.

"One more," he urges, then moves both hands to my ass, wanting me to go faster, his hips rising to meet mine feverishly.

"Um…fuck….Edward….I'm going to….Desdemona," I finally exclaim as my orgasm hits me. I can feel myself spasming around Edward and feel his resulting spasms as he climaxes, too.

"Bella….Bella," he groans, continuing to move me against him as both of us ride out our orgasms. Finally, we stop, both of us still catching our breaths.

"I should have paid more attention in Brit Lit. I didn't know who half those characters were," he remarks, sounding serious. I burst out laughing and he chuckles with me, then pulls my lips to his.

He kisses me slow and deep, then gathers me to his chest, reaching over next to us to grab the blanket I brought out with me. He drapes it across my back and I grab the sides with my hands and pull it around his shoulders so that our bodies are cocooned in the blanket, protected from the slightly chilly night air.

His hands, which have been slowly stroking up and down my back, settle at the top of my ass, fingers splayed wide across my waist and cheeks. We sit in cuddly silence for several minutes before he ruins it all by speaking.

"Bella, why did you think you weren't good at being on top?"

I shrug my shoulders, but don't answer.

"Look at me," he orders. I've warned him about telling me what to do, so that sort of pisses me off. I rear up, not because he told me to, but so that I could tell him where to shove it. But the look on his face is so angry that I instantly chicken out, looking at him meekly instead. So much for strong, unintimidated Bella.

"Did someone tell you that – that you weren't good at it?" he asks. I nod, looking down between us, studying the flat plane of his abs and how, sitting the way we are, his skin is a little wrinkly. "Jake?"

I sigh. "Yes," I whisper. "Now, look, Ned, if we're going to continue this agreement, you're going to have to quit talking about my ex every time we have sex. It's a total downer and you are killing my awesome sex buzz."

"I promise you that this is the last time I will bring him up after sex. But, fucking Christ, Bella. There's not a fucking thing wrong with the way you are on top. In fact, you're so goddamn good at it that I may not recover until morning."

"Tequila. Everything's better with tequila," I say, teasingly, uncomfortable with his praise of my….talents?...skills?...abilities?

"Bella, I'm serious," he says, definitely irritated with me for joking. "Don't let that dickhead affect how you see yourself."

"Jesus, what is it with all of you guys today? First Jasper, now you. I don't want to fucking talk about Jake anymore," I seethe, starting to back off his lap.

He holds my hips tightly, not letting me back away.

"Bella, you can't keep running away from this stuff. You'll never get over him if you don't face it," he says.

"For fuck's sake. Why does everyone think I can't get over him? I am over him – I wouldn't take him back if he was literally the last guy on the planet. I would go girl before going back to him. I realize he left some damage in his wake, but I don't have any more emotional baggage than you do, asshole," I spit, staring angrily into his eyes. I see a flash of anger in his eyes as well, then he moves one hand up into my hair and roughly pulls my face to his, kissing me hard, his lips and tongue warring with mine for control, for dominance. After a minute, I feel him begin to harden under my ass. The hand that is still resting at the top of my ass moves lower, his fingers seeking and finding me. He pushes two, then three fingers inside me, moaning as I gasp and begin to move on them.

"Edward," I gasp, pulling my mouth away from his. He kisses down my neck to my chest, running his tongue along the swell of both breasts. "Ohmygod."

"Raise up, baby," he says, looking up into my eyes, anger replaced by desire. I raise up and lower myself immediately as soon as I feel him at my entrance.

"Fuck," I breathe, laying my forehead against his.

"Bella, Jesus, ride me," he groans.

I feel more confident than last time. I'm still a little pissed and a lot turned on, so I take control at first, reveling in the amount of times he says either my name or Jesus' under his breath. Before long, though, my thighs, unused to so much of this kind of activity in a short time, are shaky and hurting. I sink down onto him and stay there.

"I can't, Edward. My legs are tired," I say, kissing his neck.

He chuckles lightly. "Okay, Stella. Just so we're clear, though, you are fantastic at being on top and we are definitely doing that again when you've recovered."

Edward pulls my mouth to his and kisses me while he pushes me off far enough to disconnect our bodies. Then he lays me down gently, propping one of my legs on the low back of the couch and wrapping an arm around the other thigh to hold it for me.

"Jesus, I think I could just look at you all night," he says. I know I'm blushing, but I smile up at him before closing my eyes. He pushes into me slowly, bending down to lick and then suck at my nipples.

"Edward, please," I moan, listening as he groans against my breast.

"Can you come like this? If I just suck you?" he asks, his breath a warm wind against my skin.

"I don't know," I breathe. "I think probably so right now."

He attaches his mouth to one of my nipples again, holding his hips still until I begin to moan and buck underneath him. Then, finally, he starts to move again.

"Edward…..god…..you're gonna make me…..again…ohgod," I say, arching my back as pleasure washes through me.

"Jesus, it feels so good when you come on me," he says, pulling away from my chest and lowering his mouth to my ear. "I want you to do it again."

He thrusts into me harder, grunting forcefully each time. "Christ," he says loudly when I move my leg from the back of the couch to wrap around his waist.

"Edward? Is that you, dear?" a voice calls over the fence.

I look up at him with wide, panicked eyes. He raises up and smiles my favorite mischievous crooked smile at me…and keeps going.

"I forgot Mrs. Banner got new hearing aids," he whispers to me.

"Yes, Mrs. Banner. It's me. You're outside late," he calls back, turning his head toward the direction she called from.

I roll my lips together and inward to keep from laughing out loud. I can't believe he's carrying on a conversation with his elderly neighbor while we're fucking. He stills in me for a moment, placing one of his index fingers on my lips and shushing me. He thrusts again twice then holds still.

"Just bringing Sally out once more before bed. Is everything okay over there? You sound winded," she hollers.

"Just scooting things around a bit," he answers. That part's true. I think we've moved the couch a few inches with our enthusiastic fucking.

I open my lips and pull Edward's finger inside, stroking it with my tongue while I suck on it.

"Fuck, Stella, that's hot," he whispers, lowering his mouth to my collarbone and sucking hard.

"Don't overexert yourself now, Edward," Mrs. Banner admonishes.

"I'll do my very best," he calls to her, but he's talking to me, smiling down at me. I smile back, holding my teeth lightly against his finger as he pulls it out of my mouth.

"Goodnight, dear," she says. Edward answers, then we hear her calling Sally – who I hope is a dog and not a grandkid or something – and I assume they go back inside.

He leans down to kiss me, moving the leg he's still holding to wrap around his waist so I've got him completely enveloped in me.

"I'm sorry. I can't fucking wait any longer," he mumbles against my lips as he starts moving again, thrusting vigorously, relentlessly into me. I use my legs to help us crash together and I cry out when I come again, my nails digging into his shoulders. He stiffens above me, then buries his face in my shoulder, groaning my name as he empties inside me.

I use one hand to lightly scratch up and down his back and move my other hand to his head. I run my fingers through the hair on the back of his head over and over. I think I might be a little obsessed with his crazy, sexy hair.

He chuckles and raises his head to look at me. "How the hell am I going to look her in the eye tomorrow?" he muses.

I roll my lips together to keep from laughing again.

"Don't laugh at me. She's a sweet little lady," he defends. I give up to the laughter, then.

"Ned, what am I going to do with you? First you bring up _my_ ex after sex, and now you're not even pulled out of me and _you're_ talking about other women," I giggle.

He smiles down at me and drops a quick kiss on my lips. "Sorry. No more talking about other people after sex. You ready to go in?" I nod. "You take the blanket. I'll put the fire out and get our clothes. My room's at the end of the hall upstairs." He kisses me again lingeringly as I unwrap my legs from his waist. He stands and helps me up, then wraps the blanket around me like a towel and sends me inside.

* * *

I feel light, tickling kisses across my shoulder and reluctantly open my eyes. I'm disoriented at first, then I remember I'm at Ned's…naked. He refused to let me wear pajamas last night even though we didn't do anything but snuggle once we came in from outside. We snuggled and talked for over an hour before the tequila finally caught up with us and put us to sleep.

"Good morning, Stella," he says cheerily.

"Morning," I mumble, trying to keep my eyes open. "What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty."

"Seven fucking thirty a.m.? You are waking me up at seven fucking thirty on a Sunday?" I say. "Don't you ever sleep in?"

"No, not really. I'm more of an early riser. I'm guessing you're not," he replies.

"I have to get up early all week. On weekends, I generally like to sleep a little later than the goddamn rooster," I mutter.

"Jesus, what a grouch," he says. I can tell he's trying not to laugh.

"Dude, seriously, you do not want to mess with me this early. I am not nice," I say.

"Okay, okay. I'll let you go back to sleep if you kiss me," he says.

"No way. I haven't brushed," I argue.

"Please? Just one kiss," he pleads.

"Oh, all right. But no tongue. You haven't brushed either," I say.

He kisses me….and kisses me and kisses me. No tongue, but open mouth. Neither of us dies from the fumes coming off the other.

Finally, I break away and bury my face in his chest.

"Okay, Stella, go back to sleep," he says gently.

"Stay with me?" I mumble.

"Of course," he answers, kissing the top of my head.

* * *

Two hours later, I wake up alone. I get up and get dressed then make Edward's bed. Grabbing my overnight bag, I head downstairs to find him.

I hear him in the kitchen, so I peek my head around the doorway. He's standing at the stove – with his back to me. I walk quietly up behind him, snaking my arms around his torso.

"Good morning, Ned," I say, pressing my cheek to his back.

"Morning, Stella," he responds. "You're in a better mood now."

"Sure am. I love sleeping in."

He turns around. "You're dressed. Why are you dressed?"

"It's walk of shame time, Ned," I say with a smirk.

"You don't have to go. Stay for awhile," he says. He turns back to the stove.

"Can't today, Ned. I've got stuff to do besides you this weekend, you know," I say, laughing when he smirks and waggles his eyebrows at me over his shoulder.

"What stuff?" he asks, turning off the stove and putting…something unrecognizable….on two plates.

"Laundry, cleaning, a little work, going for a run with Ang later. Nothing exciting, but all things that must be done," I say, staring at the plates as he carries them to the island bar where he's set juice already. I grab the coffee pot and fill the two mugs he's set out then sit down beside him.

I take a bite of what I think are eggs. They are awful. I grab the juice and wash them down at the same time Edward does.

"Fuck. I guess I still can't cook," he mumbles. I laugh and lean against his shoulder.

"It's the thought that counts," I say.

"No, it's not," he laughs. "Now you'll really want to get out of here."

I finish my juice and take a big drink of coffee. "Yeah, there's nothing like bad cooking to drive a girl away from incredible sex," I say sarcastically.

He laughs and leans over to kiss me. "So the deal's still on?"

"Oh yeah, Ned. The deal's still on," I answer. We talk a few more minutes, then I really do leave, knowing it will be harder to go the longer I hang around. He walks me to my car and kisses me goodbye, saying he'll talk to me 'soon'.

By Wednesday morning, I'm wondering exactly how long that is.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Simple math. Children home for the summer + babysitter who isn't paying much attention to them = computer infected with malware. I saw lots of porn, but not Robporn, which is the only kind of porn I like to see.

But I really love my computer guru who housecalled me to get everything running smoothly again.

Thanks for reading - please review :)


	6. Wednesday is Hump Day

Disclaimer: Twilight = not mine

* * *

"Bella Swan," I say into my phone. I didn't recognize the number on the caller ID when the call came in.

"Hello, Ms. Swan. This is Jane, in Edward Cullen's office. I have Mr. Cullen for you if you're available to speak with him," she says.

"Of course, Jane," I answer, butterflies suddenly emerging in my stomach. I'm assuming this must be a business call since he had his secretary call me. It _better_ be a business call since he had his freaking secretary call me.

"Hold, please," she says. The phone rings twice and then he picks up.

"Bella," he says in that velvet voice….that velvet voice that I haven't heard in three days. It's like a caress, like his whole fucking hand reached right through the phone and touched me. My panties are ruined immediately. If I'd known he'd be calling today, I would have brought an extra pair to the office with me.

"Hello, Edward," I answer in a somewhat detached tone. "What can I do for you?"

He laughs softly. I bite my lower lip thinking about what I'd like to do for him…to him. I force myself to take a quiet deep breath and refocus.

"Jack Hale would like to meet with you and Emmett about the ad campaign. He's got some time this afternoon or tomorrow morning. Would either of those times work for you two?" he asks, all business.

"I can meet either time with only minor reshuffling, but let me check with Emmett. Is it okay if I call you or Jane back in a few minutes?" I ask.

"Sure. You can just let Jane know which time would be best for you. I'll be in a meeting the rest of the morning," he says, then drops his voice an octave when he continues. "But I am looking forward to seeing you."

Whatever, I think, rolling my eyes. Blah, blah, blah. Yada, yada, yada. Why am I bugged just because he hasn't called this week? We aren't dating. Still, I'm reluctant to reciprocate the sentiment aloud even though it's true.

"Thank you, Edward," I reply instead. "I'll let Jane know about the meeting. Bye." I hang up before he has a chance to respond. I guess I've regressed to teenage passive-aggressive behavior.

I walk out of my office and down the hall to Emmett's. I pause, feeling sad as I pass Jasper's empty office. He's out of town this week and next for business and then he's spending two weeks at his parents' ranch in Texas. We haven't really talked since Saturday night, only exchanging brief work-related emails, but I know he'll be glad to hear that things are progressing with the Hale account. I sigh quietly and continue on toward Emmett's office.

I knock lightly on his open door before I step inside.

"Hey, Em, Jack Hale wants a meeting today or tomorrow," I say brightly. I at least passed the first test of selling a big client on my own.

Emmett raises his eyebrows at me. "Impressive, Bella. That's great," he says enthusiastically. I hand him the file to look over and head back to my office after asking him which time he'd rather meet.

I call Jane back to say we'll be over this afternoon. If I had known I was going to have a meeting today, I would have chosen my clothes more carefully this morning. My skirt is a little shorter than I would normally wear for a client meeting and my too-high heels are killing my feet, but I don't have time to go change. When it's time to go, Emmett suggests that I ride with him, telling me he'll bring me back after the meeting.

As soon as we're in the car, he starts in.

"So, Swan, I'm going to meet the hot sex dude, huh?" he asks, smirking over at me.

"Emmett, don't make a big thing out of this…please," I start, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

"Lighten up, Swan. I'm just teasing you. Does he know about me?" he asks.

"Yeah. He thinks meeting you will be like meeting Charlie," I laugh.

"Ha. I'm nothing like your dad. No offense, Swan, but I'm much more handsome and charming than he is," he laughs. Emmett has never suffered from low self-esteem.

"Yes, I know how handsome and charming you are…you freaking tell me all the time," I remark dryly.

Emmett chuckles loudly then looks thoughtful as he begins speaking again. "He's kind of right, though, with the dad thing. I _am_ on the Selection Committee," Emmett states.

"What the fuck is the Selection Committee?" I ask, frowning at him. I've never heard him say that before.

"Your dad, Jasper and I are the Selection Committee. We formed it after everything happened with Jake. We will not be letting any losers, cheaters, or assholes through to you. We won't mess with your dates – or sex buddies," he says, looking at me pointedly, "but anybody you're going to get serious with or even _think_ about marrying will have to be evaluated by the Selection Committee. And will have to pass our extensive and rigorous testing process."

I laugh – because he's funny and because he's serious. As if I would ever allow that shit to happen. I shake my head at him. "All three of you are delusional if you believe for one second that that crap will fly with me. Look at me, Em. Person capable of making her own decisions," I say, pointing to myself.

"Look at me, Swan," Emmett says, pausing until I do, and then pointing at himself. "Person who had to watch the shit you went through with Jake – who, by the way, would never have passed the Selection Committee in the first place. You _will_ be hearing our opinion the next time. I realize you can make your own decisions, but you should want to have objective opinions about someone you're thinking of spending the rest of your life with."

I roll my eyes and look out the window. "I don't consider any of you objective. Moot point anyway, for now," I mumble. I pull out my powder and lipstick, making sure I look presentable, suddenly feeling nervous about seeing Edward.

"Bell, you don't even need that shit. You are bellisima without it," Emmett says quietly.

My heart flutters in my chest. I finish putting on my lipstick, and then turn and smile widely at him. "Thanks, Em."

* * *

Emmett whistles quietly under his breath as we walk into the reception area at Hale Software. "Nice," he says, looking over at me. I nod and head straight for the receptionist.

Just like last week, Jane comes down to the reception area to escort us upstairs. She looks Emmett up and down with raised eyebrows, then blushes when she realizes how obvious she's been. He is pretty cute with his short, curly, brown hair and deep dimples. He has no trouble with the ladies. He makes small talk with Jane, charming her and winking at her, causing her to blush furiously. I feel her pain as a frequent blusher myself. And Emmett really does use his looks and charm against women, turning them into stuttering piles of goo more often than not when he first meets them.

Unlike the last time, Jane takes us to the eighth floor, to a large office that I assume is Mr. Hale's, where Edward and Mr. Hale are already waiting for us. Emmett motions me to walk in first, but since he's taking the lead today, I let him past me immediately once we're inside to step toward Mr. Hale. He shakes hands with Mr. Hale and then introduces me.

"Ms. Swan, it's nice to finally meet you. Edward was quite impressed with you and your ideas after your initial meeting," he says, shaking my hand.

"Thank you, sir. It's nice to meet you as well," I say, smiling and blushing, aware that next to us Emmett and Edward are shaking hands. "Please call me Bella."

My eyes meet Edward's as he steps toward me to shake hands. The girls are glad to see that Mr. White Lightning hasn't lost his touch in the last three days. I was prepared for it this time, though. There was no creaming today…I mentally pat the girls on the back. Nicely done, ladies.

Edward briefly touches the small of my back to guide me toward the conference table in the adjoining room. Apparently, I spoke too soon with regard to the ladies…they've now gone fangirly down there. I consider revisiting my speech about semi-assholes, since Edward's really done nothing to dispel that conclusion in public, but it's really too late anyway. The panty damage is done. I take a deep breath to regroup and maneuver my way to the conference table, waiting to sit until I see where Emmett sits. I do not want to get stuck sitting next to White Lightning for the next couple of hours.

We all sit down – I get my wish and sit in between Mr. Hale and Emmett – and Emmett goes over the proposal for Mr. Hale. When he's done, Mr. Hale directs several questions to us. I answer most of them, since they are similar to the questions Edward asked Friday for the most part. I spend almost an hour on the hot seat, with Emmett providing backup if I need it – which I mostly don't. I try not to look at Edward very much – I tend to lose my train of thought when I do – but each time we make eye contact, he's smiling at me.

Mr. Hale watches me intently, smiles at me when he particularly likes an answer I give and eventually stands up to get four wineglasses from the credenza behind him.

"Red or white?" he asks next.

"Sir?" I say, raising my eyebrows.

"Wine, Bella. Do you prefer red or white?" he asks again, smiling at me again.

"Whichever you prefer, sir," I answer with a coquettish smile, earning me a laugh from all three men.

"I prefer red," he says, still chuckling.

"What a coincidence. That's also my preference," I laugh, smiling widely up at him.

He laughs again with me and pulls my chair out from the table gently. "Okay, Bella, choose a bottle for us," he says, leading me to a cabinet across the room. When he opens the wooden door, he reveals one of those fancy schmancy wine refrigerators that will keep reds at room temperature and chill whites in another section. My wine knowledge isn't that great and I feel like this is some sort of test. I think I am supposed to choose quickly, but not hastily.

I look over the labels, hoping I'll recognize something – and I do. Amazingly, a wine that I once had with one of Jasper and one of his brothers in Florida is included in the selection. I take it out, but keep looking over the rest of the labels. Not seeing anything else I recognize, and remembering that I liked this wine so much that I tried to buy some when we returned to Seattle – until I went to the liquor store and saw how much it cost – I turn and hand the bottle to Mr. Hale.

"Excellent choice, Bella. Do you know wines?" he says, handing the bottle to Edward to open.

"Not well, Mr. Hale. But I have had this wine before and really liked it," I respond.

"Where did you have it? It's nearly impossible to find anymore," he remarks.

"I had it in Key West last year while I was on vacation with a friend visiting his brother. We anchored a boat offshore to stargaze and drink good wine," I answer, smiling at Mr. Hale and at the memory of a magical night.

"Are you still close with the friend and his brother?"

"Very."

"I would be anxious to know if they have any more bottles of this particular vintage. I'd happily buy any they have left, as it's one of my favorites and we've just uncorked my last bottle," he says.

"Oh my gosh, Mr. Hale! Why didn't you have me choose another?"

"Bella, it was a good choice. Wine is meant to be savored with others, not stored for eternity," he says. "But if you'd check with your friend, I would appreciate it."

"I'll certainly do that, sir," I say, sitting back down. Edward has opened and poured the wine and passes glasses around the table to us.

"Emmett, Bella, to you and to the business relationship I think we are building," Mr. Hale says, raising his glass toward us. The rest of us raise our glasses as well and Mr. Hale touches his glass to mine, smiling. "Emmett, I'd like you to present this proposal for the board in New York at our meeting next month and if all goes well there, we'll be in business. And all will go well there. No one ever goes against me." Laughing, he tells Emmett the date of the meeting – a Friday in June – and I see all the color drain from Emmett's face.

"Mr. Hale, I'm sorry. I won't be able to be at the board meeting. My sister is getting married in Hawaii that weekend and I'm the best man," Emmett says, looking as scared as I've ever seen him.

"Okay, don't worry so much, Emmett. Bella can go instead. She's quite capable from what I've seen today and what Edward has said. Are you able to go, Bella?" he asks. I've already got my calendar open on my phone and I look up, smiling and nodding.

"Perfect. Edward, you handle her travel arrangements. Just have her fly out and back with you as I'll be out of the country with my wife. I'll videoconference in, but I won't be there to take care of you. Have you ever been to New York, Bella?"

"No, sir," I say.

"Then it'll be an adventure for you," he says laughing. "Edward, make sure she sees the sights and has a good time."

"Of course, Jack. It'll be my pleasure."

Oh fuck. I'm going to New York with Edward. Double fuck. He said something about his pleasure and now my brain is off on its own crazy, sex-filled tangent.

Mr. Hale starts ticking off things he wants me to see in New York, telling me to let Edward know which things interest me most. I nod along, but I'm still thinking about sex with Edward in New York. His pleasure…my pleasure…our pleasure. I hold in the big dreamy sigh.

"So, Ms. Swan, I presume you're not married?" Well, that certainly brought my thoughts back to the present. I smile softly and look down at the table.

"Nope," I say, swirling the wine in my glass gently and watching it slosh around.

"Well, we'll try to keep that fact hidden around here or you'll have half the male staff in the building following you around," he says, laughing. "Are you seeing someone?"

I look up at him and laugh with him, but I'm not really amused by this line of questioning. "No, Mr. Hale, I'm not dating anyone right now. Taking a break from all the love," I answer, saying love like it's a bad word. He laughs.

"Sounds like there's a story there. Wish I had time to drag it out of you, but I have a dinner party to get to. I'll be anxious to hear the story when we meet again, though. Edward can show you out and I'll be in touch soon," he says, standing. Emmett and I both stand to shake his hand.

As soon as he's gone, I look at Emmett. "We should get going, too, Em."

"Yeah. Nice to meet you, Edward," Emmett says, as Edward stands and walks around to where we are to shake Emmett's hand.

"Good to see you, Edward," I say, letting my gaze meet his for the first time since the wine drinking and uncomfortable questioning started.

"Bella, I'm going to need some information from you to book your airline ticket. Do you have a minute to give it to me now?" he asks, smiling at me.

I look questioningly at Emmett. He points to his watch. Lord forbid he miss his weekly pick-up basketball game at the gym. I nod in understanding, though. I'd just as soon get the heck out of here.

"Um, Edward, could I just email it to you? Emmett has a basketball game in 45 minutes. He's going to be cutting it close as it is since he has to drop me off."

"Oh, you rode together?"

"Yes."

"Well, you could stay now and I'll take you home," he suggests. Emmett is looking at me, one eyebrow up, dimples showing as he tries not to smile. I should say no. I look over at Edward. I want to say yes. I look back at Emmett and he shrugs – he doesn't care one way or the other, but I'm sure he'd prefer not to have to drive all the way back to the office.

"My car's at the office, though," I offer.

"That's okay. I'll take you anywhere you want to go," he says. Why does it sound dirty when he says it? I stifle a giggle and tell Emmett to go ahead. He says he can find his way out and leaves the office, winking at me over his shoulder.

"Let's go down to my office. I'll have Jane copy your driver's license. That should give her the information she needs to book our tickets."

"Okay. You're not going to look at it, though, right?"

"Not if you don't want me to. Why?"

"It says how much I weigh on there!" I exclaim.

He steps closer and lowers his voice, making it sound deeper, rougher. "Bella, I carried you to bed Friday night. Saturday night you sat on my lap for an hour. I can probably guess how much you weigh."

I can feel my blush spreading from my chest up to my cheeks. "Thanks, Edward. Now I feel better."

"Bella, you're tiny…and beautiful. Let's go so we can get out of here," he says, smiling down at me. I nod and we walk out of the room.

We walk to the elevator and ride down, making small talk about the meeting. Edward confirms my suspicion that Mr. Hale was testing me with the wine choosing, but says it wouldn't have mattered what I'd chosen, as long as I'd not chosen blindly. He says I did well, sounding like he's kind of proud of me…which ridiculously makes me kind of feel good.

When we get downstairs, he goes into his office to return phone calls, telling me to come in when I'm finished with Jane. Jane and I chat for a few minutes while she copies my driver's license and congratulates me on getting the account.

"Well, I don't have it yet. I still have to present for the board," I say, which I haven't really thought about. Suddenly, I'm terrified. Either I'm pretty bad at hiding my feelings or Jane is pretty good at reading people. Or maybe both. She picks up on my terror immediately.

"Don't be scared, Bella. It only goes this far if Mr. Hale's already decided…I'm sure he told you that. And Mr. Cullen will be there. You two seem to get along well," she says. I think she might be fishing for information, so I try to look indifferent as I reply.

"Your advice was spot-on on Friday, Jane. I appreciate it. He is less of an asshole than I expected," I say, laughing with her and then excusing myself to Edward's office.

When I walk in, he looks up and smiles at me, then motions for me to shut the door. I do, then walk forward and sit down in the same chair I sat in the last time I was here, smirking a little as I think about everything that's happened since. Edward notices me smirking and smirks back, still talking on the phone, like he knows exactly what I'm thinking about. He probably does.

I pull out my phone to check email while I'm waiting; answering the two I have from Jasper, which are both business-related. All the other emails can wait until morning.

Jasper and I are not conversing on a personal basis, which is strange because we never do this. When we bicker, the after-effects are usually short-lived. We spoke Saturday night after the argument, but since then…nothing. No funny texts, no 'hey,darlin' emails, no late night I'm-out-of-town-and-bored-so-let's-talk phone calls. I miss him. I do have a funny text from my frenemy at work, Jessica, though. She wants to go to out Friday night.

***BB– Bobby's Friday happy hour? Aphrodisiacs, food & drinks, hot boys…make my hooha happy. You in? Jess**

Chuckling to myself, I text her that I'll be there. She's not my favorite person, but Jasper just lectured me a couple of weeks ago on building bridges in my work and personal life with women. I tend to hang out with the guys instead. I detest the bitchiness and cattiness that seems to be inherent in most of the women in our office. However, I did tell Jasper I would make an effort to befriend some of them, at least on a superficial basis.

I look up to see Ned studying me intently as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the phone. His eyes are dark and mesmerizing. I bite my bottom lip and swallow nervously. My panties get another surge of moisture from Old Faithful down below. I have a guyser in my pants. I smile at my stupid, misspelled humor, but it's true. Hear his voice – whoosh. See that messy hair – whoosh. Look into those green eyes – whoosh. At least he's not crooked-smiling at me now.

"Alec, I'm going to have to call you back tomorrow," he says into the phone, his eyes never leaving mine. "I have someone in my office that I really need to deal with." He hangs the receiver up roughly and stands up. I stand, too, as he starts around the side of the desk.

His arms are around me and his lips on mine as soon as he gets close enough. I put my hands on his biceps, feeling the strength there even through his suit coat. I slide my hands up to his shoulders and press my chest against him. He moves a hand up to tangle in my hair, but I pull my head away.

"We still have to walk out of here. Don't mess up my hair," I whisper.

"Sorry," he murmurs, moving his hand to my ass instead and pressing his lips to mine again. I giggle against his lips and he smiles back. We kiss for another minute and then I take a step back, moving behind the chair I was sitting in to distance myself from him.

"We need to stop. There are too many people in this building."

He leans against the front of his desk, studying me. "You're right. I just couldn't stay away any longer. I've thought about you almost constantly for the last three days. I wanted to call you so many times, but I didn't know if that would be okay – you know, during the week."

"Edward, you can call me anytime," I say, relieved that the reason he hasn't called isn't that he decided he didn't want me anymore.

"Okay, I'll remember that. I'm done here for the day. You want to grab dinner on the way to get your car?"

"No, thanks. I want to get home and get out of these heels. I have blisters," I say, wincing a bit as I shift my weight from foot to foot.

"I could pick up pizza and bring it to your apartment," he suggests.

"Sounds perfect," I say, smiling at his persistence. It might just be a sex relationship, but at least it's not a pity sex one.

On our way out, Jane tells Edward that she's made our airline reservations then asks for my email address so she can send me the itinerary. She asks if Edward wants her to handle the hotel, too, but he tells her he'll do that himself. I hope it's my imagination, but I think she smiles knowingly at us as we leave.

* * *

An hour later, he knocks at my door. I have changed into knee-length yoga shorts and a sleeveless yoga top. I don't do yoga…I just really like the comfy clothes.

I let him in and we decide to eat at the coffee table and watch a movie. I grab us beers from the fridge and we settle in, sitting next to each other on the floor cross-legged with our knees touching.

We talk sporadically throughout the movie, laugh at the same places, and playfully nudge each other. After awhile, I get up and get the peanut butter cookies I made the night before and two glasses of milk.

"These are phenomenal, Stella. Did you make these?" he asks.

"Yes," I answer, blushing.

"Jesus. Please say you'll make them again," he says, his mouth full of cookie. He pauses to drink down half his glass of milk. "Please, please, please." He punctuates each please with a kiss….a wet, crumby kiss.

I laugh against his lips as he kisses me again, sliding his peanut butter tongue against mine. "Okay. As long as you keep kissing me," I say, breathlessly, when we pull apart.

"I really like the cookies, but I like kissing you more," he says, looking sideways at me as he dunks another cookie into his glass.

"Play your cards right, mister, and you can have me _and_ the cookies again," I laugh, watching as he pretty much swallows the cookie whole. He wraps his arms around me and kisses my lips, then trails his cold milky lips down my neck.

He mumbles something against my neck. I can't understand what he said but I think it was something about New York.

I push him away and say, "What?"

"I'm so glad we get to go to New York together. It's such a great city to visit. And you're an NYC virgin," he says. "We need to talk hotel, though. Do you want your own room or do you want to stay with me in my suite?"

"One night?" I ask, unsure of how long we'll stay.

"Three nights."

"Holy hell. You think you can stand to be in the same hotel room as me for three nights?" I ask disbelievingly. "I've told you before…stubborn, sarcastic, hard to please." I point to myself, laughingly.

"Semi-asshole," he retorts, pointing at himself.

"True," I concede, still laughing. I want to stay with him, but it might be too much…too soon. And I'm a girl who likes to spread out in the bathroom…I'm not used to sharing counter space.

"Tell you what, Stella, I'll get us separate rooms, for now, and if you decide you'd rather stay in mine, we'll cancel yours. Okay?" he asks, sensing my hesitancy. This trip is two weeks away, anyway. He might not even want me to stay with him by then.

"Yeah, that sounds good," I answer. "You want to stay over tonight?" I blurt it out fast, before I lose my nerve.

"Shit, I wish I could. I have a 6 o'clock flight to Dallas in the morning. You could come home with me," he says.

"And get up before it's light out? No, thanks. I'll pass," I answer, smiling at him. He looks a little disappointed by my answer, though. "Can you stay a little longer?"

"Yeah, a little bit," he says.

"Great. Wanna make out?" I ask, waggling my eyebrows at him.

"I thought you'd never ask," he laughs, leaning in to kiss me, putting one hand in my hair. I have both palms resting lightly against his chest until he slides his tongue past my lips. Then I moan and move one hand up to his hair and the other around his back. After several minutes of urgent kissing, I pull away, smiling at the surprised look on his face, then pull him with me up to the couch. Well, really, I pull him on me, spreading my legs and letting him settle in between them.

He looks down at me and grins before kissing a path along my jaw from one side to the other. He licks down one side of my neck to my collarbone.

"God, Ned, how do you do this to me so fast?" I muse.

"Do what, baby?" he says, thrusting his hips against mine. I gasp quietly then push up with my hips, making him groan.

"That. You make me want to do that," I say breathlessly.

"Fuck, Bella. I don't know. You do it to me, too," he says, burying his face in my neck.

He unbuttoned a couple of buttons on his shirt before we ate and now I greedily attack the remaining ones, trying to get him undressed quickly so I can get my hands on his bare skin. He puts his palms on either side of my head and pushes up, allowing me access to the buttons. Once they're undone, he pushes back onto his knees to take the shirt off and toss it to the floor.

Looking down at me with a sly grin, he slowly inches my shirt up. I'm sure he knows I am no longer wearing a bra. He uncovers my skin slowly until he gets to the underside of my breasts. He pushes my shirt up farther on one side, uncovering one breast.

"So fucking pretty," he whispers, never taking his eyes off my chest. The speed of my rapid, shallow breaths moves my chest up and down quickly. Edward leans down, putting his open mouth over as much of my breast as he can and swirling his tongue all around the exposed nipple.

"Ahhh, god, Edward," I moan, arching my back off the couch, trying to force more of myself into his mouth. He closes his teeth gently around my nipple, pulling upward gently as I moan again. He licks and sucks as I pull at his hair with one hand and feel up his ass with the other. He lets go finally and looks into my eyes as he slides my shirt up on the opposite side, revealing the other breast.

"Jesus, someday I really am going to make you come with just my mouth on your tits," he tells me in that gravelly voice that I am starting to recognize as desire-fueled. "But not today. Today I need all of you."

"I need all of you, too," I whisper, reaching up to rake my fingernails over his nipples and then down toward his waist, smiling as his abs contract under my hands and he lowers his lips to mine quickly before moving his mouth to the newly uncovered breast. He sucks and pulls on me again until I'm desperate for him…I really don't want to beg, but I know I will if he doesn't get this show on the road.

As if he can read my mind, he skims a hand down along my ribcage, tickling me slightly with his feather touch, and into the waistband of my shorts.

"So soft here," he murmurs, rubbing the back of his hand back and forth across my lower abdomen. "So hot and wet here," he says, moving his hand down inside my panties to touch me. He slides two fingers into me then pulls them back out to circle slowly around my clit. I push at his chest until he raises up, looking into my face with a concerned expression.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Quit being such a fucking tease and get your pants off," I demand. He raises his eyebrows and looks amused, finally breaking into the lop-sided, little boy smile.

"Okay. Race you," he says, standing up beside the couch. He has pants, boxers and socks off before I even know what the hell he's talking about. "Jesus, Stella, you're slow," he mocks, grabbing my shorts and pulling them off. I pull my top off and fling it across the room. He grabs the sides of my panties and whips them off, leaving me naked in about two seconds.

He smiles as he lowers himself back onto me. "I win," he taunts. I chuckle, then moan as he slides slowly into me.

"Um, no, Ned. I'm pretty sure I just won. I got exactly what I wanted," I pant. He lowers his smiling lips to mine, says mmhmm and kisses me sweetly as he slowly moves in and out.

"Bella, you feel so fucking amazing," he says, looking into my eyes briefly before lowering his mouth to trace along one side of my jaw and down my neck. He sucks on my neck the way he knows I like it for a minute as he thrusts harder, but not faster. When I'm bucking underneath him a minute later, he pushes his upper body up off me, changing the angle. Then finally, he speeds up.

I pull my knees up toward my chest. Bending to kiss one and then the other, Ned stops moving and pushes my legs over his shoulders.

"Edward," I gasp.

"Baby? Is this okay? Is it uncomfortable?" he asks.

"It's good…fuck…it feels so good," I manage to say, wrapping my hands around his forearms beside my head. I know my fingernails are digging into his skin, but unless he complains, I'm not stopping.

I close my eyes for a second. When I reopen them, Ned is looking down, watching as he fucks me. I feel myself start to tighten around him.

"Ohmygod, you're watching us," I groan. He looks up at me intensely for a moment then looks back down. My hips move faster as I race toward my orgasm, spurred on by watching Edward. As soon as it hits, he pumps into me harder and faster still, grunting. I've watched him climax before, but he looks different this time…so focused and absolutely beautiful.

"OhfuckBella…jesuschrist…goddamn," he says loudly, thrusting twice more and then holding still as I feel his cock convulse inside me. I moan quietly as my still sensitive girl parts endure more stimulation. When he starts to recover, he lowers one of my legs from his shoulder and leans down to kiss me, stretching the leg still hitched on him a little farther than it wants to go.

"Ouch, Ned. Need my leg in working order tomorrow," I chide, trying to scoot it off myself, but not succeeding. He helps me lower it gently, apologizing against my lips and then using one hand, then the other to push my legs around his waist. When I finally get the hint and wrap my legs around him tightly, he sighs contentedly against my lips.

"Jesus, how can it be more incredible each time?" he wonders as he lowers his head and presses kisses on my shoulder.

"It's me, Ned. It's all me," I say, laughing at my own false conceit and smiling to myself when he laughs with me.

"No doubt, baby, no doubt," he agrees.

* * *

After a couple of minutes, he shifts us to lie on our sides and grabs the throw from the back of the couch. Together, we each use one arm to unfold it and lay it across us. Smiling , he kisses me softly.

"We make a pretty good team, Stella," he says.

"Yup. Not too shabby, Ned," I reply, smiling back and then burrowing my head into his chest. He wraps his arms around me tightly, kissing the top of my head and sighing into my hair.

"What's with the big sigh, Ned?" I ask.

"Nothing. I just don't want to leave, but I'm going to have to go pack soon," he answers.

"Long trip?" I ask, holding my breath as I wait for the answer. Please say no, please say no, I chant in my head.

"No, I'll be back Friday," he says. I giggle. "What?" he asks, laughing with me even though he doesn't know what we're laughing about.

"I was hoping you'd say no…willing it even….and you did. I think I may have some kind of mind control superpower…or ESP…or telekinesis," I say.

He laughs louder. "Stella, telekinesis is when you _move_ things with your mind," he manages to say between guffaws.

"So? I bet I can move something with my mind," I say, rubbing up against him under the blanket. He reaches for my hips, stilling them with his hand and kissing my lips again.

"That's not your mind, Stella. You have no idea how much I'd like to stay for round two, but I have to be at the airport in seven hours," he says, still nibbling on my lips between phrases. "Can I get a raincheck?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that can be arranged," I answer, reaching up to cup his face with my hands. He pulls me up higher on the couch, so our faces are even, to bury his face in my neck. I stroke the back of his neck softly and close my eyes, breathing deeply, taking in his scent…our scent…and memorizing how this feels. I'm not stupid. I know I won't get to keep Ned all that long and I want to remember everything about him.

After a couple of minutes, he sighs again. "All right, I really have to go or I'm going to fall asleep here with you," he says. I untangle myself from him and sit up, reaching for my clothes on the floor and putting them back on as Ned does the same.

"I'm sorry I have to go…right after sex. It's shitty of me," he says apologetically.

"It's okay, Ned. I don't feel cheap or easy or anything," I say laughingly.

"Bella," he begins, looking panic-stricken.

"Kidding, Ned. Joking. Haha. Bella's trying to be funny. I've never been cheap and I've only been easy with you; and that was only because you tricked me with your semi-assholishness and charm," I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him once more as he prepares to leave.

"Can I call you when I get back Friday?"

"Yeah, sure," I answer.

"I'd like to see you this weekend sometime. Do you have plans?"

"I have happy hour slash dinner plans Friday," I say. He looks at me quizzically, but I don't offer any further information. I have nothing to hide, but this conversation is veering into an area that I'm not completely comfortable with – calendar coordination. It's too couple-y and I am not about to encourage it. He recovers quickly anyway.

"So, maybe Saturday?" he asks.

"Sounds good."

"I'll still call," he states, smiling down at me again.

"Good. Have a safe flight," I say, smiling back. He bends to kiss me once more then lets go.

"Bye."

"Bye."

As soon as he's out the door, I shut and lock it, forcing myself not to watch as he walks down the hallway. If I had watched, it would only be because he's so incredibly good-looking and he has an amazing ass, even in loose dress pants.

I clean up the mess of plates, glasses, and beer bottles we left in the living room, then sit on the couch and fold the throw. I only smell it once. He did leave a little lingering scent of man on it. It smells good. But I drape it over the back of the couch where it belongs and walk away.

While I'm brushing my teeth, I hear my phone. I walk to pick it up from the charger with my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth. I have one new text…from him.

***I keep getting a whiff of you but you're not here. You left your smell on me.**

My knees buckle when I read it, but I can't let Ned know that.

***Well, you left your smell on me, too. And sticky stuff between my thighs.**

***Boing**

***Ha. What a perv.**

***You do it to me. And you do it well.**

***U r making girl parts tingly**

***All part of my charm and trickery. **

***Aren't u s'posed to be packing?**

***Yes, but just realized zero rambling tonight from my favorite rambler.**

***Too preoccupied tonight.**

***I want the rambler back next time.**

***Will see what I can do. Go pack, Ned. Night.**

***G'night, Stella.**

I put my phone back on the charger, grinning stupidly, not realizing until I get back into the bathroom that I have drooled a mixture of toothpaste and spit down my chin and all over the tank top I was planning to wear to bed. Laughing at myself and how easily distracted I am around Ned tonight, I finish getting ready for bed and change my shirt.

Against my better judgment, I grab the throw off the couch and take it to bed with me so I can fall asleep wrapped in Ned's scent.

* * *

A/N: Thank you, readers/reviewers/alerters!


	7. Ned Gets Downgraded

Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight.

* * *

Thursday night, I get a text from Edward.

***Hey. Just wanted to say hi.**

I smile as I read it. I was just thinking about him and it pleases me to know he was thinking about me, too.

***Hey back. How's big D?**

***OK. Smells like cattle.**

***Ah, part of the Texas ambience.**

***It's a smelly ambience. How's Seattle?**

***Rainy…the usual.**

***Still on for Saturday?**

***Far as I'm concerned.**

***Good. Talk to u later.**

***Bye, Ned. Have a safe flight home.**

***Thanks, Stella.**

* * *

Friday I'm stuck in a meeting all afternoon and can't answer my phone when I see an incoming call from Edward. I smile when my phone vibrates that I have a new voicemail though. As soon as the meeting is over, I listen to it.

"Hi, Stella. It's Ned. Just calling to say hi. I will be in meetings the rest of the day and then I have a dinner thing tonight, but I'll call you tomorrow morning – well, your morning, which is like noon, right? Anyway, talk to you then. Have a good night…bye."

I chuckle with him when he makes fun of me for sleeping late and am still smiling widely when Jessica stops in my office a little before five to let me know she's heading to the bar.

"Okay. I'll meet you there. I'm dropping my car at home and getting a cab," I tell her.

When I stop at my apartment, I quickly change into jeans, but leave on the high heeled sandals and the blouse I wore to work so I look dressy enough for the upscale eatery. It's kind of a corporate meat market, which is probably why Jess wants to go there.

Jessica and I were roommates for one year during college. We really didn't know each other any better at the end of the year than at the beginning, but that was when I met Em and Jas, so it wasn't all bad. She is now the receptionist at McCarty and Whitlock, a job for which she is overqualified, but she lacks the ambition to really do anything else. She's satisfied making the wage she does and living in a crappy studio apartment downtown.

Jess and the others, Chelsea and Lauren, are already there and seated when I arrive. They have commandeered two loveseats surrounding a tall coffee table right in the middle of the lounge area, so we are highly visible, just as Jess wanted. They have already ordered drinks and appys, including a martini for me. We have opted to stay put and not get a table in the dining room, preferring to eat appys and drink instead, then head to a dance club later.

The bar fills up quickly, but I'm not really paying attention to who is coming and going. I can only see into the inside corner of the bar without turning around. Jess has the primo seat for people-watching and gives me the play by play, but I didn't eat lunch, so I am all about the crab cakes and artichoke dip. I'm barely listening as she describes all the patrons she thinks have 'potential'.

My first martini goes down quickly and I have just ordered another when Lauren leans across the table to whisper to me.

"BB, there's a totally fucking hot boy behind you who keeps staring at you," she whispers.

I don't really care – I'm not in the market for anyone since I've got my deal with Edward, but a girl can still look, right? I start to turn around to see, but she shakes her head.

"Wait a minute. He saw me talking to you and I'm sure he knows I was talking about him. Don't be too eager. Boys like girls who play hard to get," she advises.

"Lauren, I'm not playing hard to get. I actually am hard to get. I don't date, remember?" I say, laughing and sipping at my martini.

"BB, seriously, though. This guy – totally smokin' gorgeous and continuously eye sexing you from his seat. There are guys sitting with him, talking to him, and he's not even paying attention to them," she says.

Our waitress approaches us with a bottle of champagne and four glasses. "Ladies, compliments of the gentleman in the corner," she says, opening the bottle for us and pouring bubbly goodness into the flutes.

"It's from the hottie. Okay, you can look now, BB," she says. I turn toward the corner behind me and see Edward with a group of five other guys, all in suits. He smiles at me and raises a hand in greeting. I wave back and mouth 'thank you' as I smile.

"Do you know him?" Lauren demands. Since she's my frenemy, too, I don't want to tell her anything. I say as little as possible.

"Yes. He's a client, Lauren. That's probably why he was staring…probably trying to figure out where he knew me from," I assert. She looks at me like she doesn't buy that explanation, but she doesn't push it.

A few minutes later, Jessica laments the fact that the hostess has just come to get Edward's group to seat them for dinner. She practically hyperventilates as she whispers that he's coming over to say hi. I'm not even that surprised when she adjusts the girls – yeah, _those _girls – just as he appears at my side of the settee.

He fires one of his many killer smiles at us as we tell him thanks for the champagne. I try to sound businessy and indifferent as I introduce him to the other three girls. He is affable and charming, of course, and touches my shoulder briefly as he says goodbye. I feel the tingle all the way to my toes, but suppress any outward reaction and immediately turn away, not watching as he leaves the lounge.

"Jesus, how do you get anything done in meetings with him? I would just be staring and drooling," Lauren says. The other girls agree.

"Eh, he's kind of an asshole, so that makes him less attractive," I say, feeling bad about talking about him even though I don't think he would care and I'll probably tell him tomorrow.

"Well, he certainly seems to like you," Jessica says. "If he was looking at me that way, I would drag him into the bathroom and have my way with him. Is he going to be at that thing you have to go to New York for?"

I shrug disinterestedly. "Um, I think so. I'm not sure," I lie again. Then I artfully segue into the new topic of what I should see when I'm in New York, since all three of the other girls said they had been there before. By the time they're done giving me their must-see lists, there is a new set of handsome men sitting in the spot Edward's group vacated. This group is younger, dressed more casually, and clearly eyeing our foursome.

I couldn't be less interested.

Eventually, though, they send a representative over to ask if we would be agreeable to them sitting with us. I shrug again – this time really not caring – but the other girls answer yes enthusiastically. They crowd into our space; we have to squeeze to fit on the two settees around our coffee table. They are nice enough boys, I guess. They seem really immature to me – I think they are fresh out of college. They immediately take over the tab and start buying rounds of drinks.

Since the entrance to the bathroom hallway is in the bar area, I see Edward go through on his way to the restroom. I cringe belatedly, realizing what this probably looks like to him. Four guys, four girls, smooshed onto seats for six, drinking and laughing. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket not a minute later. A text from my sex buddy.

***Seriously? Right in front of me? What about honesty and trust and monogamous fucking?**

Okay, he's pissed. But his text pisses me off, as well.

***Seriously? I said u could trust me. I meant it. Trying to become complete asshole instead of semi?**

***No. Trying to see if you're calling off agreement.**

***I'm not. Are you?**

***No. Meet me on smoking patio?**

***I don't smoke**

***Me neither. I want to talk to you in person**

***Fine**

"Hey, Jess, can I bum a cig?" I ask. She hands me her pack and lighter and goes back to her conversation with boy #3. I tell boy #4 that I'll be back shortly. I wasn't listening when they all said their names. I stand up and walk to the patio door and out into the covered courtyard where smoking is allowed.

I see him already standing near the rock privacy wall. There are only three other people out here besides us and they are headed in as I come out. I walk over to Edward, but stop a couple of feet away, keeping my distance.

"Hey," he says. I return the greeting. "Are you going to smoke?" He gestures to the props in my hand.

"No," I answer snottily. I know he's waiting for me to ramble on like I usually do, but I force myself to stick to the one word, one syllable answer.

"So, what's going on in there?" he asks.

I sigh. "Edward, I don't feel like I owe you an explanation."

"Are you on a group date?" he asks, his green eyes filled with ire. He's a persistent fucker tonight.

"No." Again, snotty.

He waits expectantly.

"Asshole," I mutter under my breath. He doesn't react at all. More waiting.

Finally, I roll my eyes and start spewing. "I don't date; you know that. I came here with some girls from work. They are trying to pick up boys. I am not. And you fucking know how I feel about cheaters, so how dare you fucking text me and pull me out here to accuse me of cheating on our arrangement? You know what? Consider the whole fucking thing off as of now," I say, getting more and more pissed with every passing moment.

I turn to go, but he catches me around the waist.

"Wait, Bella. Don't go," he says against the side of my head.

"Let me go, Edward. I don't want to stay out here anymore," I say, still pissed.

"Please, Bella. I'm sorry. You're absolutely fucking right about everything you said."

"I know that, asshole. Let. Me. Go," I say through clenched teeth.

He releases me and I walk back inside quickly. I ask the girls if they're ready to move on to the dance club. They are, and the boys want to tag along, so we tab out and leave, opting to walk the two blocks since the weather is nice tonight.

At the club, I continue to drink…drowning my sorrows. I dance with boy #4 a couple of times and discover that his name is Garrett. He seems nice enough, but I'm not in the market or the mood for any funny business. By 11 o'clock, I'm pretty drunk and pretty ready to go home…alone. I tell the girls goodnight, tell the boys goodbye and take a cab back to my apartment.

Riding up in the elevator, I shift my weight back and forth from foot to foot, then stand still with my legs crossed…I really, really have to pee. When I get to my floor, I race to my door, keys already out, and let myself in, kicking the door shut behind me. By the time I've gone to the bathroom, washed my face and brushed my teeth, I'm feeling slightly more sober and sleepy. I strip down to my bra and panties and climb into bed. Fluffing the big down comforter around myself, I sink into a peaceful oblivion.

I hear my phone chime with a new text a couple of times and groggily reach over to the nightstand to pick it up. Edward. I turn the phone off without answering him and go right back to sleep.

I don't have a landline anymore, so I am now incommunicado. Smiling at my own brilliance, I sink back into blissful silence.

* * *

I must be dreaming…strong arms are snaking around me…a hard body is pressed up against my back. I feel kisses being pressed onto my shoulder. I start to stiffen, panicking…I know I didn't let anyone in.

"Don't be scared, baby. It's me," he whispers in my ear. I gasp loudly.

"No…no…no! Let go," I say loudly, forcefully, feeling hysteria start to creep in. I pull out of his arms, scrambling to stand at the side of the bed.

"Stella, it's me, Edward…Ned," he says softly. I turn on the bedside lamp, confirming that it is, in fact, the asshole…lying in my bed, fully clothed. Well, the suit coat is missing and he'd better not be wearing shoes in my clean sheets, but otherwise, fully clothed.

"How the fuck did you get in? Did you break into my apartment?" I screech, full-blown hysterical now. He sits up, looking beseechingly at me and shaking his head.

"No, Bella. I would never do that. I came to try and talk to you and your keys were in your door. It scared the fucking shit out of me. I was so relieved when I saw you lying here sleeping that I just wanted to lie next to you," he says.

"I left my keys in the door?" I ask…not really asking him. Frowning, I try to remember. I came through the door and kicked it shut in my haste to get to the bathroom. Did I pull my keys out? Did I go back and lock the door after I went to the bathroom? No, I didn't.

Oh my god. Anyone could have come walking in. Jake. I start to shake, know my legs won't hold me up much longer and turn to sit down on the edge of the bed.

"Bella? Fuck…can I touch you?" he asks from behind me. I nod my head, wrapping my arms around my rolling stomach. He scoots up behind me, his legs on the outside of mine and wraps his arms around me, hanging onto me tightly.

"Jesus…what was I thinking? What was I doing?" I ask myself out loud.

"It's okay now, baby," he says. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"How could I have been so stupid? I never do shit like that…fuck…what if it hadn't been you that came in?"

"It was me that came in, though. And I locked the door behind myself. Bella, has someone hurt you before?" he asks quietly against my hair. I shake my head. "Broken in before?"

I nod. "Twice at my old apartment," I whisper. "If you say his name, I'm kicking you out, asshole."

He chuckles lightly. "Okay, I won't say his name. Does he know where you live now?"

"I don't think so."

"He didn't hurt you when he broke in?"

"No. He just wanted to scare me and he succeeded…both times. He snuck up on me once in the kitchen and once in the bathroom. It really fucking sucks to have to lock the bathroom door to take a shower when you live alone, although it wouldn't have kept him out anyway."

We sit at the side of the bed for several minutes, until finally my shakiness subsides. I take a few deep breaths and begin to relax against his chest.

"I'm so sorry I was an ass." His words are quiet, sincere.

"Ass_hole_," I mumble, not quite ready to forgive and forget.

He chuckles behind me. "Right. Ass_hole._"

I laugh a little and he kisses along my shoulder again, then rests his forehead against the top of my shoulder and exhales loudly. We sit that way for several more minutes. The rush of adrenaline I felt when I woke is gone, replaced now with fatigue.

"Can we lay down?" I ask quietly.

"Of course, Stella," he answers, easily shifting and scooting us so that we're lying on our sides. I snuggle back against him, still wanting to be comforted. I was more scared than I was willing to let on. Jake actually got into our old apartment twice, but he tried to get in many more times than that. He was furious that I broke off our engagement and kicked him out of our old apartment…and spray painted some of his clothes pink. That was Jasper's idea….Jasper. I want to talk to him.

"I need to call Jas," I whisper. Edward raises up in the bed to reach my phone on the nightstand.

"It's powered off. Want me to turn it on for you?" he asks quietly. I nod. "No wonder you weren't answering my texts or phone calls." He sounds partly amused, partly annoyed. He hands me the phone and I call Jasper.

"Baby Swan," Jasper says loudly into the phone. I start to laugh. Jasper is tipsy, but at least he doesn't sound irritated with me anymore. And at least I didn't wake him up. I glance at the clock – it's only one. Jas is a night owl anyway – and from the background noise, it sounds like he's at a bar.

"Hi, Jas. How's San Fran?" I say. He immediately wants to know what's wrong, so I tell him what I did, that I'm okay, that Edward is here. He talks to me soothingly for a minute, reassuring me that Jake can't find me here. That I'm safe.

"Hang on. You have the hot sex dude in your apartment and you're on the phone with me? I'm flattered, Baby Swan," he says, laughing. "Now let's hang up so you can get him in bed."

"Already there," I say smugly.

"Then why are you wasting time with me?" he asks incredulously.

"I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you," I tell him.

"Aw, I miss you, too, darlin'," he says. "I'm sorry I haven't called you this week. I was acting like a prick."

"Me, too," I say, smiling into the phone.

"Feel better now?" he asks. I say yes and we promise to talk tomorrow then hang up. I reach out and put the phone back on the nightstand.

"Thank you," I say quietly to Edward, re-situating myself in his arms.

"You're welcome," he answers. We are both quiet for a minute. "Are you really calling off our agreement?" He speaks quietly…hesitantly.

"No, Ned. I was just pissed off," I answer, scooting back against him and pulling his arms more tightly around me.

He exhales loudly, then plants a kiss in my hair. "Good," he says. "Think you can go back to sleep?"

"Yeah," I say. "Are you staying?"

"I'd like to if it's okay with you," he says.

"It's okay with me. You don't have to sleep in your clothes, though," I say, smiling over my shoulder at him. I feel him get up on the other side of the bed and hear clothing hit the floor. I reach over to turn off the lamp. When he slides in behind me again, I feel lots of warm skin.

"Can I kiss you goodnight?" he asks. Nodding, I roll over in his arms. He kisses me gently, his arms still wrapped around me, for several minutes. He never deepens the kiss, though, and he pulls away after a few minutes, pressing a kiss to my forehead and using one hand to pull my head into his chest.

"Goodnight, Ned," I say…just like last Friday.

"Goodnight, Stella."

* * *

I wake up in the morning lying on my back. Edward is lying on his side, his head near my shoulder, one arm draped across my stomach. I look over at him for a minute, smiling. He is so freaking hot.

I try to move my legs and get up, but they are tangled in the sheets. I pull, shifting my legs around, but it seems like the more I try to move, the tighter they become.

"What are you doing, Stella?" Edward mumbles against my shoulder.

"I'm stuck. I can't get my legs out," I complain.

He chuckles and kicks his leg down around mine, pushing the tangled covers off me.

"Thanks," I say quietly.

"Are you claustrophobic or something?" he says, looking up at me with his killer green eyes and long eyelashes.

"No. It just really bothers me when I feel like I'm being held down," I answer.

"So no tying you up, huh?" he asks, smiling at me.

"Don't make fun of me," I say testily.

"I'm not, I'm not. Just learning boundaries. Like now I know not to sneak up behind you," he says, smiling at me.

I nod. "Yeah, no sneaking. Or if you're going to sneak, be loud about it. I'll pretend to be surprised."

He laughs a little. "Pretend how?"

"I'll jump like I'm startled, I'll gasp, I'll make a surprised face," I say, smiling over at him. He smiles back and closes his eyes. I reach above my head with both arms and arch my back up, stretching as I get ready to get up. I have my eyes closed, so I don't see him…I just feel him…or rather, his mouth as it closes over the breast closest to him, bra and all, and sucks.

"Edward!" I yelp, he sucks twice more after I collapse back onto the bed, then lets go and looks sheepishly at me.

"What? Was that not what I was supposed to do when you thrust your chest up in the air?" he asks, smirking at me.

I laugh as he snuggles back up to my side and kisses my shoulder then rests his face against it, closing his eyes again.

"I'm getting up," I announce, patting his arm lightly and then removing it from my abdomen.

"That mean I'm kicked out?" he grumbles.

"No, of course not."

"Let's do something today," he says, looking up at me again. I lift one eyebrow as I look back at him. "Not sex, Bella. Or, at least, not just sex. I mean let's go eat lunch, shop, see a movie, whatever you want."

I feel nauseous as I look down at him. How come everything sounds like a date with him? But I can rationalize. This is the same kind of stuff I do with Jas and Em…except that we don't get out of the same bed to go do it and I'm not hoping to end up in the same bed again at night when we're done.

He is really cute, looking at me all expectantly. And I do really like him…he's become a friend, someone I trust…and he does need to make up to me for being an asshole last night. That's it…that's the one I'm going with. See? Completely rational.

"Well, you do have some groveling to do," I say snarkily.

"I know. I was unreasonably suspicious and accusatory last night," he says. "Please let me try to make it up to you. I have a semi status to regain."

I roll my eyes. "All right," I relent, sounding like I'm doing him some gigantic favor. He smiles up at me so sweetly that I ruin my panties. Now I really have to get going. "I'll shower then we can go."

* * *

Eight hours later, we are both tired. We have seen a movie, window shopped and walked about a hundred miles. Okay, it was probably more like three, but my feet still hurt. Thank goodness I wore flats today.

Edward and I have laughed so much that my cheeks hurt. We've been affectionate with each other, but not overly. We held hands a little, he had his arm around me a couple of times, but mostly it was just a familiar touch here or there, or a quick peck on the lips. No major PDA.

Now, though, we're sitting at the bar of one of the restaurants in Green Lake splitting a good bottle of wine. He has a hand resting on my leg and, judging by the way he keeps leaning over toward me, I think if these barstools weren't bolted to the floor, he would have scooted closer to me.

I've been talking a lot since we started drinking wine, telling him about my mom…free-spirited, flighty Renee, who wanted to be my friend, not my parent. Then I tell him about my dad, straight-laced, slightly uptight Charlie, who wanted to be my parent and struggled to be my friend. Charlie and I have gotten better lately, though. He was rock solid when I was going through the break up with Jake. Renee couldn't really be bothered with it, other than to send a 'that's too bad' email and then complain about losing her portion of the wedding deposits and her airline ticket expense. She ended up switching her ticket to a Mexican tourist destination to recover from her disappointment.

Edward listens intently, asking questions once in awhile, but mostly content just to let me ramble on and veer off on my own little tangents.

When the bartender brings us the sampler platter of appetizers we ordered and another bottle of wine, I ask for ketchup. It comes in the original, old-fashioned glass bottle.

"I hate these. The ketchup never comes out," I grumble, turning it upside down and beating on the bottom to try and ketchup the ginormous onion rings on the platter.

"Here, Stella. See the little 57's on the bottle…you have to feel for them," he takes my finger and rubs it over the raised number on the glass. "That's a pressure point. Hit the bottle on any of those little numbers and the ketchup comes right out."

What the fuck?

I try it. It works.

"Ned…you have closet trivia knowledge," I accuse. "You let me ramble on about the stupidest subjects and you have actual, useful fucking trivia knowledge. That kind of pisses me off."

He starts laughing and leans over to kiss me…twice, lingering against my lips the second time.

"You're cute when you're pissed. I couldn't tell you that last night though. You were _really_ pissed then."

"Justifiably," I assert, raising one eyebrow at him. He nods in agreement and leans in to kiss me again, lingering even longer and sliding one hand under my hair to rest on the nape of my neck. I'm breathing pretty fast by the time he pulls away…so is he.

He sits back up straight and feeds me a bite of onion ring, perfectly adorned with bright red ketchup.

"Ned?" I ask with my mouth full, covering my mouth with my palm so he doesn't have to look at my partially mashed food.

"Hmm?" he asks, chewing. I swallow my bite of onion ring. I barely tasted it, which is a shame because I think it was delicious.

"How freaking fast can you eat?" I ask, putting my hand on his leg and leaning toward him.

He grins devilishly at me as he summons the bartender and asks him to pack our stuff to go. We tell him that we are walking the few blocks back to Edward's house, so he even splits what's left of the white wine into to-go cups and we walk to Edward's drinking $75 a bottle wine out of paper cups with plastic lids and straws. And the bartender made a hefty tip for being so quick about it.

When we get to his house, he heads for the kitchen, asking me to shut and lock the front door.

"I've got to put this in the fridge so the sushi doesn't spoil. You better not have any clothes on when I get back in there," he commands, carrying our bag of leftovers to the kitchen. "Wait…shut the blinds first."

I laugh as I swivel the blinds closed. "_You_ better not have any clothes on when you get back in here," I counter.

I step out of my shoes and chuck my jeans over by the windows. I walk toward the couch pulling my jacket and then my shirt off and flinging them, not bothering to look at where they land. He comes back to the doorway and drops his shirt where he stands. He starts walking toward me unbuttoning his jeans, then stops to take them off, lowering his boxer briefs, too, and kicking them out from under his feet. I can't quit staring at him. He points at my bra and underwear.

Uh oh. I'm behind.

"These are technically undergarments…lingerie…not clothes," I offer, smirking slightly at him.

"You're fucking gorgeous. Come here," he orders.

I walk to where he stands by the fireplace. He holds one hand out to me and I take it, letting him pull me the last couple of steps. He lowers his lips to mine immediately, sliding his arms around me and kissing me, pushing his tongue into my mouth, moving it against mine, then moving his hands down my body and inside the back of my panties to cup my ass.

"Spectacular ass," he murmurs, smiling against my lips, kneading my ass.

"Eh, it's overrated," I reply breathily. "Now, this is a spectacular ass." I sneak my arms around his waist and slide them down to cup his behind. We grind our hips against each other as we kiss for a moment, then Edward skims his hands up my back to unhook my bra. It slides partway down my arms and hangs there because I refuse to let go of his ass. He smiles against my lips as he moves his lower body away from me, disengaging my arms, and swipes my bra to the floor. He reaches both hands up to cup my breasts immediately and I gasp as he rolls and tugs my nipples.

"Edward," I groan.

He kisses down my neck and across my collarbone, then finally down to one breast, pulling the nipple into his hot mouth and sucking hard.

"Please, baby," I mumble after a moment, barely coherent enough to form words.

"Please what, Bella?" he asks, switching to the other breast. I can only groan again in response. "You want to come, don't you?"

"Yes," I whisper. He puts his lips back on mine, kissing me deeply, one arm wrapped around me and the other still cupping my breast.

He backs me to the corner, to the oversized chair and ottoman and pushes me lightly until I sit and then lie back, pulling him with me. He pulls his lips away from mine and heads for my chest again. He plucks at my nipples with his thumbs and forefingers and I arch up into his touch. Then he opens his mouth over one breast, swirling his tongue around again and again, moaning as I use one hand to grab hold of his hair and the other to clutch at his shoulder.

He sucks rhythmically then, steadily, with just the right amount of pressure. I gasp and writhe under him, moving my hips against the leg he has between mine.

"Uh uh, baby. Just my mouth," he whispers, looking up at me. I swallow, looking into his eyes, as he moves to straddle my thighs, pushing my legs together.

"Fuck, Edward, I want you," I whisper, running my hand through his hair roughly a couple of times, then grabbing hold again.

"You're going to get me, Bella. I just want this from you first. You can do it, baby. You're close already," he says, leaning back up to kiss my lips gently, sucking at my bottom lip, running his tongue along it before letting go and moving back down.

He gets to work on the other breast, swirling, sucking, tugging gently with his teeth while his fingers mimic the same actions on the other side. I moan like a freaking nympho, and take a couple of gaspy breaths. If I just had a little clit friction, I'd be there.

He sits up suddenly, keeping his weight off my thighs, and using only his hands to manipulate my breasts, moving me closer and closer to where he wants me.

"God, you are so sexy, Bella. I can't believe I get you," he says, looking into my eyes – which I'm having trouble keeping open, except that I can't bear not to look at him. He smiles softly at me, then moves his eyes to my chest and leans back down, swiping his tongue up the valley between my breasts, then squeezing them together.

"Jesus….please," I beg, my voice raspy, my breath ragged.

"Do you like this, baby? Does it feel good?" he asks, rubbing his open lips across the swell of my breasts.

My hips jerk upward – I know there's nothing there to rub against, but they have a mind of their own.

"Yes….fuck, Edward," I breathe, drawing the second syllable out until it's almost a sob.

"Come on, Bella. Give this to me. Come for me," he says against my skin. Looking up at me with his hypnotic green eyes, he moves his mouth to my left breast again. I don't know how he's figured it out after only a week, but everything on my left side is more sensitive…left side of my neck, left arm, left leg, left breast. He sucks hard, watching me as the orgasm hits me hard.

"Ohmygod…Edward," I cry out, pleasure raging through me. When I start to quiet a little, he moves to the other side, giving equal pleasure, but gently, no longer driving me upward. He lets me come down and I don't notice that tears have been leaking out the corners of my eyes until he kisses me and wipes them away gently.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" he asks.

"No…just intense…never done that before," I stammer.

"Me neither, Bella," he says, lowering his lips to mine. "I want you so much." He kisses me gently for a moment, seemingly knowing that I need a few moments to regroup. He touches my hair, my face, my arms gently. Finally, when I begin to respond more actively, he pushes back onto his knees and slowly peels my underwear down my legs. I shift my legs apart allowing him to settle in between. He slides two fingers into me, groaning under his breath. He brings his mouth up to mine at the same time he sinks into me.

He doesn't kiss me, just hovers his parted lips against mine, each of us taking the other's breathy moan in as we join together. He holds still for a moment, looking into my eyes. I wonder if he can feel my pulse the way I can feel his. I bite down on my lower lip.

"No way, Bella. That's my lip to bite," he scolds, reaching up with his thumb to pull it away from my teeth and then using his teeth to bite gently.

"Uck," I breathe, making us both chuckle. If he wasn't hanging onto my lip, I'd be able to properly say the F word. Impatiently, I push my hips up against his. He grunts as he pushes back and we begin a strange sort of game, thrusting wildly against each other a few times and then one of us stilling. We both hold still then, sometimes with eyes open, sometimes closed. The friction feels better every time we restart and finally he lets go of my lip to lower his head to my shoulder.

"I can't stop anymore," he grunts, his hips working furiously against mine.

"Thank God. Jesus, baby, I thought you were trying to kill me," I answer, moving my heels to the backs of his thighs so I can move harder against him. I bite gently and suck on his shoulder where I can reach it, moving my hands to his ass as he wraps his arms around my shoulders.

"Fuck, Bella, I'm not gonna last….ohgodbaby….ahhhhh," he moans and grunts into my shoulder as he stills inside me, shuddering a couple of times as he comes down from his orgasm. I can feel his heart pounding rapidly. I match my breathing to his…quick pants, then deep breaths, and finally regular breathing as we both recover. I still feel his heartbeat, but it's now slow…steady. He skims his lips along my shoulder. He starts talking, muttering about losing his touch and the multiple orgasm queen only having one tonight. I start shaking with silent laughter and he rears up immediately to look at me questioningly.

"You are not only a closet trivia dude, you're also a closet rambler," I say, barely able to get the words out because I'm laughing so hard.

"I am not a rambler, Stella. And I think I specifically told you I wanted you to ramble tonight, and once again, you didn't," he chides, smiling down at me.

"I did ramble at the bar about my parents. I can ramble about something now, if you want. I can ramble about how the orgasm I had earlier was so freaking strong that I don't think you could get another out of me tonight even if you tried all night…or brought out the rabbit. I could continue to ramble about this shit," I offer. "or we could go sit in your hot tub and make out."

"Hot tub!" he yells in my face, making me laugh again. He pulls out of me and stands up, then holds out both hands to me and helps me up slowly. When we're both standing, I tilt my chin up and stand on my tip toes to kiss him, clutching his hands tightly. We hold hands as we walk to the kitchen and out the door, grabbing two towels from a basket in the corner. Edward pulls the cover off and helps me into the tub then climbs in himself and pulls me to sit sideways on his lap. We talk quietly. We kiss gently. Eventually we move around in the tub some, both of us dunking all the way under. Finally, when we're pruney – and I'm sleepy from the hot tub, hot sex and wine – we get out and go inside. I didn't bring an overnight bag with me today and Edward once again refuses to let me wear anything to bed, even though once again all we do is talk a little and fall asleep.

He spoons up behind me, his face buried in my still-damp, chlorine-smelling hair. It's become our ritual to call each other nicknames at bedtime and we do it again tonight.

"Night, Stella." He squeezes me lightly with the hand he has draped across my middle.

"Night, Ned." I slide my arms along his, one up under the pillow under my head, the other along the arm across me, until I reach his hands. We intertwine our fingers and I hear him sigh quietly behind me. Smiling, I fall asleep, surrounded by Ned again.

* * *

A/N: This is not going to turn into a stalker story. I promise. Jake is a peripheral character.

The thing about the ketchup bottle is true...don't say fanfic never taught you anything. ha

Thanks for reading - please review.

Send me some rec's, too - going on non-vacay vacay tomorrow and have pretty much exhausted my stash. :)

If you're also reading Bella's Second Chance, it will update tomorrow...


	8. Another Unlocked Door

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight...again.

* * *

"Bella? Rise and shine, woman," he says quietly, his lips hovering right over my ear.

"Ohmygod. I'm not staying here anymore if you're never going to let me sleep in," I moan, cracking one eye open to look at him. He scoots over close to me in the bed, wrapping an arm around me and kissing my forehead, my cheeks, my nose. He's all minty fresh. I let my popeye slide closed again.

"A wise woman once told me 'my bed, my rules'," he says, kissing the shell of my ear and then running his tongue along the edge. I sigh loudly, half irritated – the other half aroused. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to guess which half the girls are.

"That was different," I argue. I try to pull the pillow over my head, but Ned has his arm on it so it won't budge. Unable to pull it over me, I try to dive under it instead. It really only covers my forehead, though, because Ned's arm is still in the way.

"How was that different?" he asks. I know he's looking at me, but I can't get my eyes open again.

"That was _my_ bed," I grumble. I smile softly as I hear him chuckle. "It's nice, the way you wake me up and all, but does it have to be so fucking early every time?"

"You're such a whiny baby," he teases. "I brought you coffee, juice, a chocolate croissant and the newspaper, and yet you're still complaining. And it's almost nine."

"You said chocolate, right?" I say, both eyes popping open now.

"Ah, now they're open. Yes, I said chocolate," he answers. "Sit up and I'll feed you."

"I need to brush," I say, covering my mouth with my hand.

"Okay, go, then," he laughs. "I put a toothbrush on the bathroom counter for you."

"Where are my clothes?" I ask, sitting up and trying to clutch the sheet to me. But Ned's lying on top of it, so it won't reach up to cover my chest. It's like he wants me awake and naked this morning….oh….Ned might be a genius. But I feel weird being naked when he's partially dressed so I scoot back down until the sheet will reach my armpits.

"Bella, I've seen it all before. Multiple times," he smirks.

"Har har, funnyman. Give me your shirt," I demand. I am a little surprised when he sits up and pulls his blue t-shirt over his head, offering it to me. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now go so we can eat our breakfast in bed," he says.

I return a couple of minutes later. Ned has straightened up the bedding, turning it down hotel-style, and put a tray on top with coffee, orange juice and our croissants. He's sitting on his side of the bed, on top of the covers, wearing only his boxer briefs, already reading the newspaper. When I start to climb back in bed, he lowers the paper. Oh shit…he's wearing glasses. Holy mother of fuck, he looks hot – well, hotter – in glasses. I actually whimper quietly and down below, it's a flash flood. If I keep this up, an ark will have to be built. Or a submarine. It's getting a little ridiculous that the girls still have this reaction after all the time we've spent with Ned the last two days.

I clear my throat and try to get settled without getting his shirt or the sheets completely wet. I need panties – stat! Unfortunately, I have no recollection of where I left mine last night. By the fireplace? By the hot tub? On the stairs? Not a clue.

"You're looking studious, Ned," I remark, trying to keep my tone even.

"My eyes were bugging me after the hot tub, so I threw out my disposable contacts. Have I not worn my glasses around you before?" he asks.

"Definitely not," I say, picking up my coffee and taking a big gulp. Fuck! It's hot. Hello, tongue burn.

"Definitely not, good, or definitely not, awful?" He eyes me warily.

"Ned, if I have to keep looking at you in those fucking glasses, I'm going to attack you and spill coffee all over your bed," I say, downing all my juice to try and calm the burn in my mouth. I have no solution for the rest of the burning going on in my body.

"So you like them? You think I look sexy?" he smirks.

"Yes and yes. Now go back to reading your paper and let me eat my chocolate," I laugh, tearing off a bite of chocolate croissant.

We sit in his big bed, shoulder to shoulder with our legs angled out to accommodate the tray in between us, eating our croissants and talking. I periodically lean my head against his shoulder so I don't have to look at him in the fuckhot glasses. I grab part of the paper and we read in companionable silence for a while. I rarely read the newspaper, but I find that reading it while in bed with Ned is actually enjoyable. Okay, I think anything I do while in bed with Ned might be enjoyable.

"Bella?" he asks quietly. I 'hmm' to let him know I heard. "What do you think we are?"

"Um…humans, Americans, Seattleites, people who really like sex. Oh! Hot tubbers!" I respond, laughing at my own stupid answer.

"That's not what I mean," he says. He sounds irritated.

"Sorry. What do you mean, Ned?" I ask gently, folding my part of the newspaper up and tossing it down to the bed to give him my full attention. I turn to look at him in all his beautiful, glasses-wearing, nerdy glory.

"To each other. I mean, this seems like more than a booty call, doesn't it?" he asks, searching my face with his green laser beam eyes. His eyes are unguarded for the moment, open…vulnerable…waiting.

Oh, fuck. "Yeah," I answer softly, truthfully, because we promised to be honest with each other. Maybe I should tell him that I'm scared shitless about where this conversation is heading. I scoot a little closer and lean my head against his shoulder again. There's no way I can continue to look into his eyes right now. And no way I want him to continue looking into mine.

"I really like you, Bella. I mean as a friend," he says, clarifying. I don't know if I'm disappointed or relieved. I think it might be both.

"I like you, too, Edward," I answer. "I think we're becoming good friends, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. This is going to sound corny, so don't look at me while I'm talking, but that day, that first day in my office, I felt like I was supposed to know you. Not like that star-crossed lovers 'I knew you before we met' crap – hey, stop laughing, remember my sister lived here for two years and she's a sappy movie-watcher – but just like I knew that you were supposed to be in my life, we were supposed to be friends. Does that sound ridiculous?"

I stop laughing so I can answer him. "No, Ned, it's not ridiculous. I think it might have just been the physical attraction, though."

"No, it wasn't. I mean, that was there, too, but this was different. I _liked_ you – as soon as you stayed standing when I ordered you to sit and then even more when you flipped me off after I acted like an ass. Normally, that shit would piss me off, but I found it ballsy…amusing…endearing when you did it," he says.

"Am I allowed to look at you yet?" I ask, still leaning against his shoulder.

"Yeah, sure," he answers.

I sit up and turn to face him. He looks over at me. Shit. I forgot he was wearing the fuckhot glasses…now I've lost my train of thought. Come on….what was I going to say?

Right…we're friends.

"Edward, I like you, too, in a friend way. And I don't think we have to define what we are….I mean, I really like hanging out with you, talking to you. And the sex is amazing. I don't think we have to try to fit what we are to each other into some mold. I think we're better friends than most sex buddies are, but we don't want a dating relationship, right? So why can't we just be really good friends who happen to like sexing each other a lot?" I smile at him.

"I guess we can," he answers, smiling back at me. Thank God that bullshit answer seems to make sense to him. "You realize you said we didn't have to define ourselves and then you defined us, though, don't you?"

"Shut up. And really. You need to either take off the glasses or get the goddamn tray off the bed," I say. Ned needs to be distracted. He's way too introspective this morning. Freaking hot overanalyzer.

"All right, Stella," he says playfully, making me laugh as he gets up to set the tray on the floor. I pick up the pieces of the newspaper we have strewn about and toss them to the floor, too, then raise up on my knees as he lays back down.

"Can you keep the glasses on?" I ask.

"As long as you're not going to be too rough with me," he laughs. I straddle him and lean down to kiss him.

"I'll be gentle," I murmur against his lips.

* * *

"Stop moving."

"I'm trying. It's hard."

"Yes, baby, I know it's hard. Really, really hard."

"Fuck. You're killing me."

"If you'd stop moving, I could progress past your chest."

"I don't like the 'no moving' rule. What happened to 'my bed, my rules'?"

"I changed it. Now it's 'your bed, my rules'. Unless we're at my place. Then it's back to the original."

"Quit making me laugh. That should not count as moving."

"You're such a whiny baby. It counts."

"Please don't start all the way over."

"Why not? It's fun."

"It's torture."

"Then stop moving."

"Fuuuuuuck. You started all the way over."

* * *

"You're enjoying tormenting me a little too much, Bella," he says, his eyes closed behind the lenses of his glasses, his hands clasped under his head as instructed, his face alternating between a grimace and a bemused smirk.

"Edward, this is the first time we're going to have sex in your bed. I'm trying to make it memorable," I chide, reaching back up to kiss his lips. I have been at this awhile, though. And I do like tormenting him.

"Every time is memorable, Bella. I need to be inside you," he says, against my lips.

"I know. It won't be long now. You've gotten very good at holding still," I praise. I slide back down his body, purposely gliding my very wet folds slowly along his cotton encased erection.

"Holy hell. You're not going to try and make me hold still during sex, are you?"

"No, that _would_ be cruel," I answer, smiling up at him. My mouth has made it all the way to his navel this time. If he can just hold still another thirty seconds, we'll both get what we want.

Starting at his forehead and covering his face, ears, neck, chest and abs in kisses – and one dark purple hickey – while making him lie still and not touch me was one of my more brilliant ideas. He's complained almost nonstop, but I can tell that he really likes it. I mean I can _tell_ that he _really_ likes it. But it's starting to get a little tortuous for me, too, now.

I slide down a little lower and pull down his boxer briefs. I get them all the way off and toss them down to the floor.

"Please tell me you're not going to suck me and make me lie still," he groans.

"I'm not. Again, cruel," I say. "Maybe next time." I giggle quietly as he groans again and adds my name to the expletive-laden rambling he's mumbling. "Are you watching?"

He opens his eyes. He watches as I crawl back up him and lean down to kiss his lips, my hair hanging down around our faces. I sit up and pull off the t-shirt he loaned me, dropping it to the floor beside his underwear.

"Ready, Ned?" I ask throatily. He gulps and nods, never taking his eyes off me.

"When can I touch you?"

"One minute in. Do you want me to time it?" I ask.

"Yeah, baby. Please," he says.

I lift up and hold onto his cock with one hand while I lower myself onto him. He pushes up against me and I whimper as he grunts. I rest my hands on his abs, tracing his ribs, his happy trail. I raise and lower myself twice, slowly, looking into his eyes.

"Jesus, you're beautiful, Bella, sitting on me, fucking me," he says. He smiles smugly at me when his words make me clench around him and stop moving as I moan.

"Stupid fucking hot boy in glasses," I grumble when I recover a little, but I'm smiling as I lean forward, supporting my upper body on my extended arms. I begin to move on him again. "Fifty seconds, asshole."

"When am I going to be upgraded back to semi?" he asks.

I stop moving again, delighting in _his_ moan, before I answer, smiling. "When you deserve it."

"Bella, please…fuck…how much longer?"

"Thirty-five seconds," I answer, moving again. I keep the pace steady now, leaning down to run my lips or tongue against Edward's every few seconds.

"Jesus…"

The room is quiet except for the sounds of sex and our grunty breaths for the next 30 seconds. Ned and I keep our gazes locked the whole time, barely even blinking.

"Five seconds, Ned," I finally say, starting to struggle for breath.

"Five…four …ohfuckit," he says, smiling up at me and reaching both hands down to my hips, spreading his fingers out along my ass and holding me in place as he bucks his hips forcefully. He uses his hands to move me faster against him. It won't take me much longer…too much foreplay. He works me against him several more times.

"Ahhh….god…..Edward…..I'm gonna come," I say, sitting up straighter on him and hanging on to his forearms.

"Wait for me, Bella…..wait…..jesus….okay, now," he orders, sliding one hand forward to touch my clit. I feel myself clamping down on him as we both cry out in ecstasy, our hips jerking against each other. Panting, I lean forward again on my arms, closing my eyes, shuddering from the intensity of the pleasure shooting outward from my spine. When I open my eyes, he's still studying me.

He reaches for my face and I lean into his hand eagerly, allowing him to pull my lips to his.

"Jesus, Stella, that was fun….but expect payback later," he murmurs against my lips. Then he kisses me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, molding his lips to mine. I feel my inner muscles clench around him again and he inhales sharply.

"I think I'd better get off you," I say, "before my overly enthusiastic vadge cripples you."

He laughs and steadies me as I climb off him, then he rolls us to our sides and scoots down so his face is even with mine. He kisses me gently this time and then sighs into my hair when he finally pulls away from my lips.

* * *

We lie in silence for awhile, exchanging soft kisses and light caresses. He has scooted down farther so that the top of his head is right under my chin and he is pressed up tightly against me. I am absently stroking one hand through his hair, which he seems to like because every time I stop, he moves his head around until I start again.

"So, sappy movies, huh?" I ask quietly.

He groans against my chest. "I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass."

"What's your favorite sappy movie, Ned?" I ask, intrigued.

"I'm a manly man, so I don't have a favorite. But I have suffered through 'The Notebook' with my sister sixteen times," he says.

"Oh, you're right. That's a sappy one. But it's really sweet. I like it," I say, squeezing him lightly.

"Damn…why do I feel like I'll be watching it for a seventeenth time soon?" he whines. I laugh as he squeezes me back and presses a kiss against where his head is resting…which just happens to be my boob.

I sigh loudly. "I need to go," I say, ruffling his hair and kissing the top of his head.

"Why? Stay the day," he responds.

"I can't. I have work and laundry to do, and Ang and I are going for a run this evening," I say.

"Not yet. Don't go yet," he says, squeezing me.

"Sorry, Ned. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And right now, I've really gotta go find my clothes," I say. We both laugh. I kiss his head again then nudge him gently away from me and climb out of bed, pulling on his t-shirt again so I can go find my clothes.

As I walk down the stairs I can see the destruction in the living room – it looks like a tornado has gone through it – a stripper tornado. There are clothes everywhere. I can't believe he didn't pick all this shit up since he's been down here already this morning. Maybe he wanted me to see the fruits of our labor for myself. I spot my panties on the built-in bookshelf near the fireplace. I snag them and pull them on quickly. I giggle to myself as I walk around, plucking our hastily-removed clothes from the floor, the couch, the chair. I make separate piles on the couch and go into the kitchen to get a drink of water before getting dressed.

I'm standing at the sink, looking out the window at the gray but dry day and drinking my water when I hear him coming up behind me. I smile, knowing he's sneaking up on me loudly so that I won't flip out like I did Friday night. Honestly, I kind of love that he knows now that I don't like to be approached from behind without warning. He drags his bare feet across the floor, giving me fair warning that he's back there. He even softly clears his throat right before he gets to me. He slips his arms around my waist and buries his head in my neck. I pretend to be surprised, which makes him laugh.

"Well, isn't this a coincidence?" he asks, laving kisses against my neck.

I turn to look at him quizzically over my shoulder as he raises his head. "What is?"

"Being in here with you. Last weekend you wanted me to fuck you on the kitchen counter and we never got around to it. And now we find ourselves in a kitchen, surrounded by counters. Maybe we should christen my kitchen before you go."

"Ned, I just put my panties back on. You're not really going to make me take them right back off, are you?" I say teasingly, setting my glass in the sink and turning in his arms to smile up at him. I trace my hands down his bare chest and laugh as he spins us around so my back is up against the island in the middle of his kitchen.

He looks at me intently as he trails his fingers down my cheekbone. I let my eyes slide shut, concentrating on the feel of his hands as they cup my neck, his thumbs brushing back and forth along my jaw line while his fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of my neck. I feel him lean in, press his forehead to mine. My breath hitches and I hook my fingers in the waistband of his shorts.

"Open your eyes," he whispers.

I open them slowly, keeping them downcast, focused on his lips. I lick my lips while I'm looking at his. I blink slowly several times, then finally look up into his eyes.

"Hi," I breathe.

"Hi," he says back, smiling softly at me.

He lifts me up to sit on the cold granite countertop, pushing my knees apart with his hands so he can stand between my open legs. Then he leans in to kiss me gently.

I sigh and kiss him back, moving my hands to twine around his neck. Will I ever tire of kissing this man? I think not. I relax into him, letting him mold my lips the way he wants, meeting his tongue with mine, moaning when one of his hands lazily migrates upward to cup one breast and circle my nipple through the t-shirt as the other hand moves down to stroke against the crotch of my wet-again panties.

"Bella, fuck, it's like I can't stop when I'm around you," he mumbles, smiling against my lips. But this time it's a slow burn, not fast and frenzied like earlier this morning.

"Come here, Edward," I answer, pushing his hand out of the way and wrapping my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles together to move and hold him where I want him…up against me. I scoot to the edge of the counter until I can feel him, even through my panties and the shorts he put on before coming downstairs. We grind slowly against each other, one of his hands still on my breast and the other arm wrapped around my back to hold me to him. Both of us are moaning and I know it won't be long before he wants in…I hope it won't be long before he wants in.

I'm so completely lost in him – and I guess he's lost in me, too, because both of us are surprised by what we hear from the kitchen doorway.

"Mommy, what's Uncle Edward _doing_?"

* * *

A/N: Okay, this was more like a chaplet. I ended up splitting it from the next chapter because it was getting toooooo loooooong. ;)

Next part will be up by Sunday. The rest of my week is dependent on how well my son's team does in the end of the season baseball tourney. Is it wrong to hope they lose? It's hot here.

Several more chapters of fluff before we get to the prologue drama and the events that preceded it.

As always, thanks for reading and please review...


	9. Countertops are KickAss

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. I do own children who are going back to school tomorrow. Hooray for not paying a babysitter anymore!

* * *

"Mommy, I said, what's Uncle Edward _doing_?" the little voice asks again. Damn. I hoped I was hearing things the first time. I hear a gasp – oh, that was me – a groan – Edward's – and a giggle. The giggler was neither of us. I bury my head in Edward's shoulder, clutching him tightly and squeezing my eyes shut. I'm pretty sure I know who just walked in.

"Uncle Edward is kissing a girl," Mommy says, still giggling. "Grampy will be happy to hear that Uncle Edward still likes them."

"Uncle Edward always tells me no sitting on the counter. He says it's dangerous. Why is he letting that girl sit on the counter? Why are you covering my eyes?" little voice asks. Now _I_ feel like giggling.

"Sorry," Edward whispers in my ear before turning his head to address the audience. "Alice, Riley. Nice of you to drop by." His velvet voice sounds so formal, as if they didn't just walk in on us dry humping on his counter with his hand on my boob. Unable to contain it anymore, I laugh out loud. I dare to pull my head off his shoulder and peek over at his sister and her daughter. I unwrap my legs from Edward's waist and let them hang limply on either side of his hips.

Alice is tiny…like tiny, tiny. She has short spiky black hair and the same color eyes as her big brother. Riley has long, blonde curls. I can't see her eyes because Alice really does have her hand across them, but I have seen enough pictures to know that her eyes are big and round and bright blue.

"Hello…," Alice begins, looking expectantly at Edward, then at me.

"Bella," Edward answers. Alice's eyes light up and she nods at us.

"Bella. I'm Alice. It's nice to meet you. This is my daughter, Riley. Say hi to Bella, Riley," she says.

"Hi, Bella!" Riley calls.

"Hi, Riley…Alice. It's nice to meet you both," I say politely, ignoring the fact that I'm cradling my sex buddy in between my spread legs while sitting on top of his kitchen counter, wearing one of his shirts and disgustingly wet underwear. It's amazing the things I can block out.

"Yes, well, we don't usually barge right in, but the door was unlocked and Riley was in before I could catch her…and then we caught you," Alice says, laughing again.

"Alice, maybe you and Riley could go out to the playhouse for a minute? Bella and I will be out shortly," Edward suggests. Bella and I? Excuse me? I'm not sticking around just to save him embarrassment. I turn to look at him and he's looking at me, smiling, and raising one hand to stroke along my cheek. Oh, all right, I'll stay. Fuck, I'm easy. Plus, he's my ride home.

As soon as they're out the door, he's kissing me again. I pull back and put both palms against his chest, holding him slightly away from me.

"Whoa, Ned. What the hell? They're right outside," I say, brilliantly observant as usual.

"I know, but I wasn't done," he says, grabbing my wrists and moving my hands back up around his neck. He leans back into me then, kissing my lips twice before kissing a trail down my neck. Oh, screw it. Or rather, screw me, I think, pulling at his hair until he moves his mouth back to mine. I sigh when he slides his tongue along my bottom lip and I wrap my legs around his hips again. Then I hear the squealing from the back yard.

"We can't," I say, pulling away again. "I can't concentrate on you right now." He rests his forehead on my shoulder, nodding absently and catching his breath.

"I know. You're right. Stay just a little bit longer?" he asks, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek.

"Just long enough not to be rude. I really do have to work today. And both of us need to work on our door-locking skills in the future. We are total fail at that this weekend," I assert.

Nodding, he smiles the killer smile at me and lifts me gently from the countertop, setting me down on my feet and taking my hand. We grab yesterday's clothes off the couch and go back up to his room to quickly dress.

When we get outside, Riley and Alice are inside the playhouse having a tea party on the floor.

"Bella, wanna come to my tea party?" Riley asks, looking out at me through the little window.

"Um, sure," I answer, although it sounded more like a question. She opens the door for me and ushers me to a spot on the blanket they've spread on the floor. I sit down cross-legged across from Alice. Riley hands me a plastic teacup and saucer.

"Mommy said no real drinks today, so we have to pretend. Pretend to drink, Bella," she says, standing to the side of me and waiting until I raise the pink plastic cup to my lips and pretend to take a big, slurpy drink. Edward is peeking through the window and laughing at my pathetic attempts at play. I don't know how to play. I never really played much as a kid – I was too busy being the adult most of the time while Renee played with her hunk of the month.

Satisfied that I've tried my tea, Riley plops herself down right the fuck in my lap. I gasp quietly and must look freaked out because Edward is about to wet himself outside, he's laughing so hard.

"Are you friends with my Uncle Edward?" she asks, tipping her head back against my chest and looking up at me with her big, blue eyes. I can't help smiling down at her. Then I remember I don't like kids and wipe the smile off my face. Well, it's not that I don't like kids. I just don't know what to do with them. I haven't hung around with kids at all. I've gone with Jasper to take his nieces and nephews places, but I am always just along for the ride…never an active participant.

"Um, yeah," I answer, frowning at her.

"Are you boyfriend and girlfriend? 'Cuz people who kiss on the lips are usually boyfriend and girlfriend," she reasons. I can see Alice shaking with laughter in my peripheral vision. This kid is better at asking questions than….I don't know….who's a famous detective? Starsky and Hutch? Were they detectives? I can't remember. I watched the movie a couple of years ago though and I think Owen Wilson's kind of cute. Oh well. Riley's better than any detective I can think of.

Wait! Kojak…yeah, he was a detective. I used to watch reruns of that show with my dad. He was down with all the cop shows and I was down with anything that wasn't baseball. Who loves ya, baby? Okay, so Riley's better than Kojak.

"Um, yes, we're, um, special friends," I answer. Jeez. That sounded stupid. Edward is still laughing at me from outside the window, but he winks at me following that answer.

Thankfully, he takes over then, steering the conversation in another direction, I think trying to show me how easily a four-year-old can be moved from a topic you don't want to discuss onto one you do. In this case, it's ponies. Little pastel plastic ponies. Riley has a tote bag with her from which she produces pony after pony, painstakingly telling me each one's name and which ponies are best friends with each other.

I laugh out loud when she produces the last pony and says it's the frenemy of all the other, nicer ponies. The frenemy pony doesn't have a name and she asks me what I think she should call it.

I don't hesitate at all as I make my suggestion. "Jessica."

* * *

Alice and Riley stay a little longer, during which Alice, who is an excellent interrogator like her daughter, and I talk amiably. Well, I talk. She asks questions. I am excellent at diversion, though, so she doesn't get much real information out of me other than where I'm from and where I went to college.

I give up nothing on my status with Ned.

I think she might have known about me already, though, judging by her reaction to seeing me in the kitchen. She seemed to recognize my name when Edward said it. Alice and I have moved to sit in the chairs beside the fire pit while Edward and Riley kick a soccer ball back and forth in the yard about 20 feet away from us.

"How long have you known my brother?" she asks, trying again after I've diverted on the whole how-long-have-you-been-together question.

"Uh, nine days," I answer.

"Where'd you meet?"

"Don't you think you should be asking Edward these questions?" I reply.

"Don't you think I already have? He's been in a good mood every time I've talked to him this week, which is unusual for him. I knew there was a woman behind it somewhere," she says, smiling at me.

"So, if you've already asked him, why are you asking me?"

"I'm gauging you, Bella. Now cooperate," she says, smirking at me.

I laugh and tell her about the meeting in his office, how he was an ass at first and then lightened up later.

"Is that what he said?" I ask curiously.

"Basically. He says you guys are just friends, though," she says, looking at me intently.

"We are," I say.

"Yeah…I have some guy friends. I don't sit half-naked on their counters with my legs wrapped around them and suck face," she laughs. "But he asked me to leave it alone, so I will. By the way, that's completely against my nature."

I laugh with her and thank her. We both turn to watch Riley and Edward behind us in the yard.

"Edward played soccer in high school," Alice remarks when I can't stop looking at him.

"Really? Yeah, I guess I could see that," I say, studying him, absorbing the way his lean, muscular legs look when he runs. He lets Riley score several goals, picking her up and twirling her around each time. Finally, she asks to ride on his shoulders.

"Bella, look how tall I am!" she exclaims as they walk toward us.

"You're so tall I bet you could see all the way to the lake," I answer.

"Bella, you're silly. There's too many trees in the way," she says, talking to me like I'm an idiot.

Edward swings her down to set her on the ground near Alice and me. Alice says something quietly to her about her tone, but Riley completely ignores her, climbing up onto my lap…again. I am not sure what to do with her – do I put my hands on her or not? I finally settle for patting her back softly a few times and then putting my hands back on the armrests of my chair.

Wiggling around sideways, she turns her head to look at me. "Bella, did you know I'm going to be five in one monf?" she asks, holding her hand up to show me all five of her fingers.

"Your Uncle Edward told me that, Riley. It's pretty exciting, huh?" I ask.

"Uh huh. Do you want to come to my party? There's going to be cake and pizza and it's a pony party 'cuz even though I like princesses, I don't want to have a princess party and I don't want to _be_ a princess 'cuz I'm a very smart girl and I don't need some _man_ to save me. I can save myself," she says with the attitude of Gloria Steinem and the sassy mouth of Aretha. R-E-S-P-E-C-T, baby.

I can't help it. Laughing, I put my arms around her and hug her then.

"Alice," Ned says warningly, quietly. "I thought you were going to stop with the man-bashing, feminist diatribes."

"I was…I did…I have – mostly. But we were watching a movie the other night and it just galls me that all these princesses are saved by men, when in reality, we know women are excellent problem-solvers. I'm not against all princesses being saved by the prince; I would just like one freaking movie where the prince gets saved by the princess."

I'm smiling widely, which Alice notices. She winks at me.

"Yeah, Uncle Edward. Girls are tough, too. Wanna see my muscles?" Riley asks, hopping down and trying to flex her little arms for us until we are all laughing.

After a few more minutes, Alice and Riley are ready to leave. As they are headed out, Riley runs back to where I'm standing and puts both arms around one of my legs, squeezing like a little boa constrictor.

"Bye, Bella. Come to my birfday party, okay?" she asks, looking up at me with her huge, round eyes.

"I'll try, Riley," I answer, patting her back stiffly, still uncomfortable with an affectionate four-year-old.

"'kay," she says, letting go and running out the door as Alice chases after her.

Edward shuts the front door after them and locks it loudly, then turns to look at me.

"So, that was my sister and my niece. Sorry. Alice tends to barge right in and Riley, so far, takes after her in that regard."

"It's fine, Ned. I liked meeting them," I say, walking toward the chair where my jacket and purse are laying. "I do need to get going, though. Do you mind taking me home?"

"I don't mind. Are you sure you have to go?" he asks, lifting my hair out of the inside of the jacket as I put it on.

I tell him yes and he drives me back to my building without any further arguing, letting me off in front instead of walking me up at my insistence. Before I get out of the car, he gets me to agree to dinner either Tuesday or Wednesday, depending on both of our schedules. He leans over to kiss me goodbye as I get out.

"See ya, Stella," he says, running his hand down my arm to squeeze my hand.

"Bye, Ned," I answer, squeezing back and then pulling my hand away gently. I force myself to climb out of the car instead of on top of Ned as I'd like to and walk quickly into the building. I don't look back.

* * *

I busy myself with laundry and work in the afternoon, completely forgetting about Ned for seconds at a time. I need a better distraction. Maybe I should bake…no, that will remind me of Ned, too, and how much he liked my cookies. I finally settle for showering and then running errands. I still think a lot about him, though.

In the early evening, Ang and I head out for our run. We used to run almost every evening, either outside or at the gym down the street, but both her work and mine have been hectic lately. We very rarely miss our Sunday evening runs, though. It's our girl therapy time.

Ang and I run three miles, talking the whole way. I have my iPod armband on and one earbud in so I can have background music. She talks about her boyfriend, Ben, who treats her like a queen. I talk a little about Edward. But I'm afraid to say too much because I know Ang doesn't approve of the decision I've made.

"So you're still not dating?" she asks. I look over at her warily. "I'm not judging, just asking."

"No, we're not dating. We are going to New York together in two weeks, though. For work," I add before she can ask.

"Hmmm. Well, Bella, I can't pretend to understand what you're trying to accomplish here, but you seem okay with it, so I'm…I don't know….happy for you?" she laughs. "Just be careful, B. I wasn't around for the stuff that went down with Jake, but I saw the aftermath. I don't want to see you go through that again."

"No worries, Ang. Ned and I are simply friends who have sex. No strings attached, no feelings involved," I laugh, slowing down as we get closer to our building. She laughs with me, although I don't think she's that amused by it. We stand in front of our building, stretching as we cool down, and then go inside and get on the elevator.

When the elevator stops on our floor, she exits first and I follow. She is walking directly in front of me as I unstrap my iPod and start scrolling through the music. There are some seriously heinous songs on it that must be removed. I'm so preoccupied calling out names of awful songs – who the hell put George Michael on here? – that I can't believe I ever loaded – probably Jasper, thinking he's funny – and looking down at my iPod screen that I run into her. I almost knock her down because I fail to notice she's come to a dead stop in the middle of the hallway.

"Ang, what the hell?" I mutter as we both stumble and struggle to remain upright.

"Um, company," she says quietly, turning her head to the side to speak to me behind her. "Yummy, yummy company."

I peek around her shoulder to see Edward sitting on the floor outside my door, smiling crookedly at us. My lips smile back without permission. I don't like surprise visitors and don't want to encourage this behavior….but he's yummy, just like Ang said.

"Hey, Ned. Whatcha doin' in my hallway?" I ask, still trying to tame the smiling lips.

"Waitin' for you," he says, standing up. "Hi, I'm Edward Cullen." He's speaking to Ang and holding out his hand for her to shake.

"Um, hi, I'm, uh, Angela Weber. I, um, uh, live next door," she stammers, shaking his hand. I think she's got a little drool hanging from her chin, too. I roll my eyes. I tried to tell her. I unlock my door and step inside.

"So, you coming in or what?" I ask him, holding the door open.

"Is it okay? I mean, I don't want to bother you," he answers, looking a little sheepish now. I raise my eyebrows at him and open the door wider. He walks in.

I call out to Ang that I'll see her later, then shut and lock the door and kick my running shoes off beside it. I peel off my sweaty socks, too, hoping my feet don't stink. I pad my way into the kitchen to get a bottle of water. After unscrewing the lid and drinking almost half the bottle, I turn to look at Edward.

"Drink?" I ask, wiping the dribbles around my mouth with the back of my hand.

"No, thanks," he answers, coming to stand in the kitchen with me. I set the water down on the counter.

"I know…I look gross," I say, because he keeps staring at me.

"You don't. You look sweaty…and healthy…and beautiful," he answers with a smile, reaching a hand up to my sweaty hair to tuck a piece that came out of the ponytail behind my ear.

"Ned, I've already agreed to the monogamous fucking. You don't have to flatter me," I say, smiling back and rolling my eyes up at him.

"It's true, Bella," he answers simply. He picks up my water bottle from the counter and takes a drink.

"Okay, Edward. Why are you here? You just dropped me off like six hours ago," I say, still smiling at him as I take my water away from him and finish it.

"You left your phone charger plugged into my bedroom wall. I wasn't sure if you had an extra and I met Alice for dinner not too far from here, so I thought I'd drop it by," he explains. He reaches into his pocket and gets the charger, holding it out in front of me by the usb end so the cord and plug swing back and forth like a hypnotist's watch chain. Embarrassingly, I actually watch it swing back and forth three times.

Then I snap myself out of it. I will not be hypnofucked tonight, whether it's by my phone charger cord or his eyes or his hair or his body or his lips. I take a lingering look up his body, to his lips, his eyes, his hair. Oh hell. I'm going to be hypnofucked all right.

"Thanks, Ned. I hadn't missed it yet," I say, grabbing the swinging end and tugging on it until he lets go. I have another charger, but I'm not going to bring that up right now. I toss the charger toward my purse at the other end of the counter. "I would hug you, but I'm all stinky and sweaty."

"I don't mind your sweat," he says, reaching for me and pulling me to his chest. I hear him sniff my hair. "And you don't stink." Um, Ned, I call bullshit. I know I'm at least a little bit reeky.

He puts his hands on either side of my sweaty neck and leans down to kiss me, capturing my lower lip between his and pulling on it gently. I moan quietly, fisting my hands in the sides of his shirt, as he releases my lip and slides his tongue into my mouth to tangle with mine. The amount of moaning that I do while kissing Ned is absurd.

For lord knows what reason, I have a sudden mental image of my grandma, god rest her soul. She used to involuntarily grunt when she would bend over. Bend down to get a pan out of a cabinet, grunt. Bend down to pick up something off the floor, grunt. I'm like that with Ned, except it's moaning, not grunting, and kissing, not bending over. Oh shit. I think if he bent me over I might grunt _and_ moan. That mental image causes a world-class moan to be involuntarily emitted from my throat.

"You taste salty," he murmurs, kissing down across my jaw to my earlobe. He bites it gently.

"You taste fishy," I answer, smiling as he puts his lips back to mine. I can taste the salt from my sweaty skin on his lips. Now he tastes like the ocean.

"Lobster," he answers, smiling, gripping my jaw between his thumb and forefinger to hold my head still.

"I really, really like lobster," I say hooking one arm around his neck to pull his face closer to mine. When he kisses me, I bring my other hand up to grip the side of his face. I'm not sure if it's the endorphins from running or the frustration of not finishing what we started this morning…or a little of both…but I'm as aggressive with him as I've ever been. I pretty much attack his mouth with mine.

He moves his hands to my hair, gripping the sweaty strands in his fingers, pulling more pieces loose from the ponytail. We kiss until we're both panting, until I have to pull my mouth away so I can take a bigger breath. He uses the hands still buried in my hair to tilt my head backwards so he can kiss down the front of my neck and into the vee of my t-shirt. He reaches for the bottom of my shirt and pulls it up and off of me. I grab the bottom of his shirt, too, and start to lift it. Smiling at me, Ned pulls it off himself. I lean forward to tongue his nipples as soon as they're exposed. He reaches around my back, looking for a way to get me out of this sports bra. I want to chuckle when he runs his hands from the back of the bra to the front and then repeats the process. I should help him, but it's too funny to feel him fumbling around. And there's no graceful way to get out of a sports bra. Finally, giving up on finding an emergency boob exit, he pulls the tight straps down my arms, releasing my still-sweaty breasts from their confinement.

"This is gross. I need to shower," I say, trying to push Edward away.

"The fuck. You're incredibly sexy. Quit pushing me away," he growls, lifting me to sit on the counter. Just as I suspected: Ned has been thinking about countertop sex all day just like I have. Now who's the great detective? Me! Elementary, my dear Watson. Damn, how did I forget Sherlock Holmes earlier today?

"I knew it. I knew you wanted this just as much as I did," I say smugly, kissing my way across his collarbone and up his neck. I unbutton and unzip his shorts, letting them fall away as I reach into his boxers and wrap my hand around him, using my thumb to circle his head. I use my other hand to start pushing his boxers down and he helps, sliding them down his legs and kicking them off. I slide my hand up and down him several times as I kiss across his chest.

"Fuck," he says, expelling his breath harshly and lowering his head to my shoulder. He hooks his thumbs in the sides of my pants. I let go of him and move my hands to my sides, pushing up to get my hips off the counter so Ned can pull my pants and then my thong down my legs. Leaning forward to kiss me again, he slides his hands slowly back up my legs. I shudder involuntarily as he tickles the back of each knee, then moves his hands to stroke up my inner thighs. Finally, he reaches between my legs, sliding his fingers against me, stroking several times before pushing his fingers into me and moving them in and out several times slowly.

"Edward….please….I want you," I breathe, pulling my lips away from his.

"I want you, too," he says, looking into my eyes. "Come here, baby." He pulls his fingers out of me and scoots me to the edge of the counter. Slowly, so slowly I can feel every inch, he enters me, holding still when he's all the way in.

"Jesus, Ned….how long 'til we can do this again?" I ask, clutching his shoulders and pressing my upper body against his.

"Stella, we're not done with this time yet," he says, pulling his chest away to look at me. He looks amused.

"I know, but it feels so good I already want to do it again," I respond, amused myself. He laughs, causing tiny fissures of pleasure to course through my body. I whimper quietly and close my eyes. It will not take me long to have a mind-blowing orgasm tonight.

"Jesus, I can feel that…feel you…Stella," he grabs my neck and pulls me roughly to him, kissing me as he starts to move in me. He moves slowly at first, then a little more quickly. As we speed up, we stop kissing but leave our lips close, breathing each other in. I move one hand down to the counter behind me, giving me more leverage to push myself toward him. When my breathing becomes gaspy, when Edward knows I'm close, he goes even faster.

My legs tighten around the back of his thighs as I work myself against him. "Edward…ohmygod….ohmygod," I cry out as I come, digging my nails into his shoulders.

I feel his orgasm begin, feel him slam into me once more and hold himself tightly to me, his own grunting breaths echoing mine. He says my name softly, pulling the hair tie out of my hair and digging his hands all the way into my scalp, kissing me as our breathing returns to normal, our bodies cool.

When he pulls away from our kiss, I smile up at him and reach one hand up to his face. He smiles back at me.

"Shit, what can I leave at your house next time?" I ask under my breath. He laughs and I giggle. "I really need a shower now, Ned. Are you going home or showering with me?"

He doesn't answer me. He merely lifts me up from the counter and walks to the bathroom. He finally sets me down and turns the shower on for us. I tell him I have to pee and make him get in the shower instead of standing there watching me. Grinning, he peeks around the frosted shower door anyway, catching me peeing _and_ trying to wiggle out of my sports bra. Irritated, I flush when I'm done, laughing as I see him jump out of the way of the scalding water.

"Little bitch," he mumbles, laughing.

"Semi-asshole," I retort.

He peeks around the door again, looking excited. "I got upgraded?" he asks.

"Yeah. No one who drives all the way over here to return my phone charger and give me hot countertop sex can be a complete asshole," I answer begrudgingly.

He holds out his hand and I take it, stepping into the shower with him.

It's the first time we shower together. We wash ourselves, each other. We kiss. We touch gently. When we're clean, we get out, dry off and climb into my bed naked. I let Ned have the tv clicker and he practically squeals when he sees that one of those Lord of the Rings movies is on. I have tried to watch these movies before, but I'm always lost. I don't complain, though, and I try not to annoy him by asking too many questions. By the time it's over, I'm yawning and so is he. I lean over to the nightstand to make sure my alarm is set.

"Will you wake me up when you get up?" he asks.

"Sure," I answer, smiling at him as I snuggle back into his side. He turns off the tv, plunging us into total darkness.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"Next weekend is Memorial Day," he says.

I laugh quietly. "Yes, Ned. The unofficial beginning of summer."

"Will you come stay with me? I mean the whole weekend. Stay the weekend," he says, sounding nervous. Rightly so. This makes me nervous, too. Just not nervous enough to say no.

"Yeah. I'll stay the weekend," I whisper.

"Good," he says, leaning over to find my lips in the dark. "Night, Stella."

"Night, Ned."

Oh, shit. What the hell am I doing?

* * *

A/N: Delays suck. Sorry. If anyone's still reading, please review so I have something in my inbox tomorrow to distract me from the fact that my children won't be calling every ten minutes. I love refereeing fights from 25 miles away. :)


	10. Weirdos and Btches and Virgins, oh my!

**A/N: Wow, long time, huh? It was never my intention to take three months between updates on this story...but I swear it won't happen again. In fact, most of the next few chapters are written, so with a little clean up, they'll be ready to go! **

**This chapter is looooong, so settle in. :) It's a turning point of sorts...there is some fluff in this chap, but we're also getting closer and closer to the meat of the story. **

**If you're still reading, please review and let me know what you think! **

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Chapter title: Weirdos and bitches and virgins, oh my!

Monday morning comes way too soon. I groan when I hear the alarm start beeping and blindly reach for the nightstand to bang it into submission. I gasp quietly when Ned reaches for me from behind, pulling me backward toward him as soon as I hit the alarm. Maybe he's going to bang me into submission, too.

"Good morning," he whispers in my ear, chuckling lightly when I shiver involuntarily and break out in goosebumps. He trails his lips down my neck then presses his face into the crook of my neck.

"Morning, Ned," I sigh, reaching an arm back to hook around his neck and then ruffling my hand through his hair.

"Jesus, I wish I didn't have an early meeting this morning," he murmurs against my skin.

"Hmm, me, too," I reply, reaching for his hand under the covers as it veers into dangerous erogenous territory. I tangle my fingers with his and lift both our hands to the outside of the comforter. I feel his lips curl into a smile against my skin. "Stay in the safe zone, Ned. We can't finish this right now if you have to leave."

"Okay, okay," he grumbles. He presses one last kiss to my shoulder and then releases me. I turn over to watch him as he gets out of bed, astounded at how comfortable he is walking around naked. We're probably lucky he had pants on yesterday when Alice and Riley walked in his kitchen because the man is completely at ease au naturel. I smirk as I think to myself that he is mine…for now.

I put my robe on to walk him to the door.

"Thanks for coming over last night," I say, smiling up at him.

"Thanks for letting me in," he answers.

"Hey – we found something you're good at in the kitchen," I say, hugging him around the waist. "You can't cook, but you can screw me on the countertop anytime."

"I'll keep that in mind," he murmurs, pressing his lips against the top of my head. He pulls away from me slightly until I look up at him. "I'll call you about dinner – tomorrow or Wednesday still good?"

"Sure, Ned," I answer, kissing him as he bends down. He turns and opens the door then steps out into the hall. I've barely shut the door behind him when he knocks softly again. "Yes?" I ask, smiling up at him when I've opened the door enough for him to stick his face through.

"Don't forget to lock the door behind me. Bye," he says, kissing me quickly one more time. I smile as I shut the door and lock it, resting my forehead against it for a moment.

"Bye, Edward," I whisper.

* * *

Later Monday, Edward calls to say that he has to fly back to Dallas unexpectedly and thinks he'll be there all week.

"Wow, Ned. Find yourself a Texas filly last week or something?" I ask teasingly …mostly. I don't like the quick spike of disappointment that rolls through me at the thought of not seeing him all week. "You suddenly get a hankering for big hair and hot pink lipstick?"

He chuckles lightly, but doesn't really sound amused. "Stereotyping the good people of Texas, are you?"

"Only the women," I argue. And even that isn't true. I'm really only stereotyping the tarts and, in my experience, they look pretty much the same in every state. Plus, I love Texas because that's where Jas is from.

"No, Stella. I told you that you didn't have to worry about me having something on the side as long as we have this arrangement. I thought you trusted me," he says. Shit. Now he sounds wounded, like I hurt his feelings.

"I'm just screwing around, Ned. I trust you," I say contritely. He's right. I demanded the same from him last weekend.

"Well, anyway, I'm sorry to cut out on our dinner this week, but what I thought was a small personnel issue in Dallas last week is quickly turning into a huge mess. Since Jack's already out of the country, I have to go down there and get it under control," he says.

We talk a little longer then hang up, but not before Ned tells me I can call him this week if I want to. We agree that if we don't speak before, we'll meet at his house Friday night at seven.

Once I think about it, I decide I'm relieved that Ned is going out of town. We spent a lot of time together during the last three days, and even though I enjoyed myself – repeatedly – I should want a little space. I'm used to having time on my own. I'm also a little concerned about my inability to stay away from him; this week is a good opportunity for me to get my head back on straight….before I go spend the entire fricking weekend with him. Crap. Why did I agree to that? The advantage of having this agreement was supposed to be that I wouldn't be so attached to someone that he would consume my thoughts, my free time…I definitely need to regroup. Me time for Bella coming right up.

Monday night, I happily settle down on the couch with a book I've wanted to read for six months. Tuesday night, I finish it, disappointed that it wasn't very good. Wednesday night, I go for a run with Angela, then wander aimlessly around the apartment for the rest of the night, thoughts of Ned continuously flooding my brain. So much for that space I was going to take for myself.

I want to call him. Or text him. No, call him – I want to hear his voice. I pick up my phone and scroll through my contacts until I see his name, looking at it for a long moment before setting the phone back down with a sigh. I can't let myself call him – it feels too needy, too dependent... but I really want to talk to him. After wishy-washing about it for twenty minutes, I finally turn my phone off and head for the bedroom, hoping sleep will come easily and allow me to escape from the mess in my head.

But it doesn't. After I lie in bed for almost an hour, I get up and search my nightstand for the Hale Software magazine – where I first saw Edward. I don't have any pictures of him except the glossy GQ shot accompanying the article about him. When I find it, I quickly flip to the full-page shot of Ned. I smile to myself as I look at the face I've come to know pretty well. I haven't looked at the picture since the day after we met and I'm a little surprised that I see it – see him – so much differently than before.

Now I recognize that his smile in the picture is canned – not the smile I've seen when he's really amused by something. His eyes, while still beautiful, don't shine with humor or enjoyment like they do in real life. The crazy hair is the same, though it's longer now. It's also hotter in real life when I can get my hands in it.

Sighing, I put the picture away and finally fall into a restless sleep, wishing I had called him after all.

* * *

Late Thursday afternoon Emmett comes into my office and drops into the chair across from my desk. He sighs loudly – twice – and drums his fingers on the arm of the chair until I look up at him, smiling.

"Swan, let's go to dinner and go over all this shit for New York, huh?" he says.

"Okay. What's wrong with you, Em? You're leaving for Hawaii in two days, but you look like hell," I observe, losing the smile and replacing it with a concerned frown. I don't remember the last time I saw Emmett looking this depressed.

"Thanks," he says sarcastically, then rubs a hand across his face as he exhales loudly. "I don't know. I wish you weren't busy next week so you could come with. I know you used to go with Jas to stuff like this. I'm not looking forward to hearing from my family all week about how it's time for me to settle down, be responsible."

"Oh, Em. I'm sorry. Try not to be so morose, though, mister. Get over to Hawaii and find yourself a beautiful native wahine. Surf, sun, snorkel – think of how lucky you are to be there instead of at the Hale Software board meeting," I say, shuddering at the end. This all sounded so much better last week.

"Yeah, I'm sure you'll have a terrible time sightseeing in NYC with your random sex guy," he says. "Did you and Jasper ever make up?"

I nod. "Mostly. I think everything will be fine by the time he finally gets back from the ranch," I say, while I shut down my computer and grab my bag. "Let's go."

We go over the presentation I'll give for the Hale board while we eat at his favorite steakhouse. He approves of the minor changes I've made since we presented for Jack and pronounces me ready to go.

A few minutes later, he leans across the table to whisper to me. "Bell, when the waitress comes back, can you let it slip that we're not together? She's hot and she's been checking me out, but I think we look too much like a couple," he says. His eyes are alive with mischief again and I'm so happy to see my regular Emmett that I almost get up and kiss him. Instead, I roll my eyes at him, but agree to his little plan. He's so obvious when she comes back though, that I can't help fucking with him a little bit.

"Bella, I think your presentation will go fine," he announces loudly as I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud. "I hope Edward isn't upset that we're squeezing in a business dinner tonight. You two didn't have plans, did you?"

I murmur a thank you to our waitress, Maggie, as she sets my salmon salad in front of me, then look up at Emmett to answer him. "No. Edward's out of town. In fact, I'm not busy at all tonight ...you know, if you want to get together later," I say, lowering my voice an octave to try and sound sultry.

When his face begins to turn red and he kicks me – hard – under the table, I burst out laughing, then reach down to rub my shin. Poor Maggie looks confused as she stands with the pepper mill waiting to see if I want fresh ground pepper on my salad.

"Sorry, sorry," I apologize, getting myself back under control. "Maggie, I would like some fresh ground pepper. My friend, Emmett, would like your phone number. Are either or both of those things possible?"

When I've finished talking, Maggie looks over at Emmett and I can see immediately that she doesn't stand a chance against him. He has a cute, though somewhat goofy, look on his face and he's smiling widely, making his deep dimples impossibly deeper. Maggie over-peppers my salad while she's rattling off her phone number to him. I shake my head in wonder at how easy it is for him to get girls. I think it's at least partially because of the dimples.

Maggie checks on us often after that and when I'm ready to leave an hour later, Emmett walks me to my car. I hug him goodbye since he's taking tomorrow off and I won't see him until after my New York trip. We promise to email and text, then I watch as he walks back inside the restaurant to wait at the bar for Maggie's shift to end.

After I get home, I contemplate calling Edward. I sit on my bed and wrestle with my feelings – my desire to talk to him is strong, but I still feel like it's a violation of what was intended when we started this arrangement – the glorified booty call. Aggravated with myself, I roll onto my stomach and yell frustratedly into my pillow. This is stupid. We're friends. There's no reason I can't call a friend. I call Jasper all the time and that doesn't faze me. But I still don't do it. I go to bed early and lie awake in the dark ... looking up at the ceiling ... thinking of Ned and wondering if he's thinking of me.

* * *

Finally, it's Friday afternoon. I go home from work a little early so I can shower and pack. Then I make dinner for us and pack it up in disposable containers. I pull up in front of Edward's house about five minutes early, smiling when I see him sitting on the front porch steps waiting for me. As soon as I park, he stands and walks down the sidewalk toward me. By the time he reaches me, I've made my way around to the passenger side and am starting to pile things in my arms to carry inside.

"Stella," he says roughly from behind me. I turn to face him, hearing the smile, the relief, in his voice.

"Hi, Ned," I say, returning the smile, not trying to disguise my obvious pleasure at seeing him. Damn, he looks really good, dressed in a plain white t-shirt and jeans that are old and faded. I gaze up at him, my heart skipping a beat when he reaches for my sunglasses and pushes them up onto the top of my head.

"I want to see you," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss my lips gently, reaching one hand up to smooth down my hair and resting the other hand lightly at the side of my waist. He kisses me several times, using the hand on the back of my head to hold me to him, then pulls away to smile down at me again.

"I thought you'd never get here," he whines, leaning in again to bump the tip of his nose against the tip of mine.

"I'm early," I argue, chuckling. I can't help teasing him a little. "Are you starving or something? Couldn't wait for your dinner?"

"I could eat," he quips with a shrug, his eyes shining with laughter. "Come on, let's go in." I hand him the bags with our dinner and then lean back in to get my weekend bag. He waits for me to step away from the car and then shuts the door behind me and follows me up the sidewalk.

When we get inside, I start unpacking the food while he sets the table. He holds a bottle of wine out toward me wanting my approval and opens it after I nod at him. As we eat, he tells me about his trip this week. When he asks what I did all week, I try to make it sound exciting, but I don't think I'm very successful. It's hard to sound excited about it when I didn't enjoy it for the most part.

"You didn't call," he remarks quietly, looking down, using his fork to push around the food that's left on his plate.

"I figured you were busy. I didn't want to bother you," I say, putting my bent elbow on the table and resting my chin in my hand.

"You never bother me, Bella," he insists, tracing my arm with his index finger, his eyes now downcast.

"Well, I did want to call," I say softly, reaching for his hand. "I just wasn't sure if I really should. I'll call you next time, okay?" I intertwine our fingers for a minute on top of the table and squeeze gently.

He squeezes back, then looks up and smiles crookedly, seeming to snap out of the melancholy funk he was in a moment ago. "Okay. Since you cooked, I'll clean up. You go relax."

Raising my eyebrows at him in surprise, I nod slowly then pick up my wine and head for the front porch, wanting to sit and enjoy the sounds of the neighborhood for awhile. I sit down on the step where he was sitting earlier and wave at the people walking up and down the sidewalk. I listen to unseen kids' laughter as they play somewhere down the street. I watch Ned's neighbor across the street as he plants flowers in the window box with a little girl. Fifteen minutes later, Ned joins me, bringing the bottle of wine with him to top off my glass.

"Thanks," I say as I smile up at him then scoot over a bit on the step to make room for him. "It's nice out here. I like your neighborhood, Edward."

"Thanks. I do, too. When I bought the house, it was for Alice and Riley's benefit, but I've really come to think of it as home. I can't imagine going back to the high-rise apartment I used to live in now, even though I always thought I would."

"It reminds me of where I grew up…kind of like a small town," I remark, looking over at him.

"Yeah, I've thought that before. I grew up in the city, but my grandparents lived in a small town and we spent lots of time there when I was young. My dad still owns the cabin… or I assume he does. It was where my mom grew up," he says softly, then sighs. I wait to see if he's going to continue, wondering if he'll ever talk more about his family. When he remains silent, when I feel the air get heavier around us, I try to lighten it up.

"Know what you need? You need a porch swing. A porch swing would be perfect on a night like tonight and it would fit perfectly with the style of your house," I say, looking over at him. He turns around and surveys the porch behind us, nodding.

"I think you're right, Stella. It would be perfect. Maybe you can help me pick one out, huh?" he says, running his hand up my spine as he turns back around. He leaves his hand resting casually on the back of my neck.

"Sure," I remark, smiling at him as I take a sip of my wine. He doesn't talk any more about his family. I never talk about my family either though, so it doesn't bother me… too much. We stay outside until it's dark, until we hear parents calling their kids in for bedtime.

Once the neighborhood is quiet and dark, he stands and offers a hand to help me up. Suddenly, I feel so nervous that I think I might throw up. This is uncharted territory for us. Up to now, Ned and I have had a pattern. We have the hots for each other, kiss passionately, make each other's clothes disappear and screw. We've not done this; a domestic-feeling evening where we go in and head up to bed together without sex first. I let him pull me to my unsteady feet and we walk inside together, pausing briefly in the kitchen to set our wineglasses in the sink.

He seems to sense my nervousness – or maybe he's nervous, too. "You want to take a bath?" he asks as we enter his bedroom a few minutes later. I told him last weekend that I wanted to get in his tub and never get out. It's big and deep and whirpooly. It will definitely help me relax.

"Absolutely," I say grinning up at him.

He smiles down at me and kisses my forehead. "Go ahead, then."

"You're not…I mean…you don't want to…," I stammer.

"Bella, do you want me to take a bath with you?" he asks, smirking at me now. I nod. "I'll start running the water."

By the time I manage to quash my nerves to a reasonable level and walk into the bathroom, the tub is almost full and Ned's already in it, bubbles bubbling around him. He didn't turn on the lights over the double sinks so the only illumination in the room is from the chandelier that hangs over the bathtub. The light is soft and dim and I begin to relax a little.

"Close your eyes until I get in," I tell him as I pull my hair up on top of my head and secure it with a ponytail holder.

"Stell-a," he whines.

"I mean it. I feel weird. Please," I plead. He closes his eyes and puts his hand out across the side of the tub for me to steady myself when I climb in. I take my clothes off quickly and take his hand as I step in and start to sink down into the water. It's deliciously hot. "Keep 'em closed," I remind him as I start to sit, afraid he will open them and see my ass coming right at him as I sit between his outstretched legs.

"Fine. But I'm getting a look at that spectacular ass later," he says, amused.

I settle back against his chest, sighing contentedly as he wraps his arms around me and kisses the side of my head. As we soak, he asks about Jasper and Emmett. I tell him things with Jas are improving, then I raise my right leg out of the water and show him the bruise I got at dinner last night from Emmett.

"He what?" Edward asks when I tell him Emmett kicked me. Uh oh, he sounds pissed.

"He kicked me, but I deserved it. He liked the waitress and I totally made it sound like Emmett and I were having an illicit affair when she came by the table. I even mentioned that you were out of town," I chuckle. Behind me, Edward's not chuckling. I crane my head around to look up at him, but can't see him very well from this angle. "It was a joke, Edward. I fixed it and he ended up waiting at the bar for her shift to end. It turned out okay."

"Except for the part where he hurt you. And the part where you pretended to want to cheat on me," he says gruffly.

Smiling, I sit up and twist around to look at him. Uh oh, he looks as pissed as he sounded. "Edward, it was just for fun. You know you can trust me... Jesus, I hadn't been with _anyone_ for almost a year and a half before you. I'm not hopping in bed with anyone else," I say firmly, turning all the way around and rising up to my knees. I reach both hands out to cup his face and lean forward to kiss him.

He puts his hands on my shoulders and holds me slightly away from himself, not letting me get close enough to press my lips to his. "Bella, I can't stand the idea of you fucking anyone else," he says, his eyes fiery. I start to pull back from him, but he holds me where I am.

Frowning slightly, I insist, "I'm not, Edward. I wouldn't. We have an agreement."

"I just... I can't... fuck, Bella. I need to be with you," he says, sliding his hands up to cup my face and pulling me forward to kiss him. He holds my face to his as he kisses me roughly, tangling his lips and tongue with mine. My heart and breathing rate speed up immediately, desire coursing through me like wildfire as he continues kissing me. I reach forward and place my palms against his chest to brace myself, delighting when I feel his heart racing just like mine. I kiss him more aggressively, reaching my right hand up to his jaw, gently digging my fingers into his cheek.

I moan into his mouth as he slides his hands down my neck to my chest and cups my breasts in his hands. He hums back into mine as he squeezes gently and uses his thumbs to circle my nipples. He pulls his mouth away from mine, opening his eyes to meet mine, looking at me with his bright green eyes. I recognize the desire I see there, but there's something else, too – something I can't identify.

Abruptly, he sits up, dislodging my hands from him and forcing me to straighten up on my knees. He slides one arm tightly around my waist and keeps the other on one breast while closing his mouth around the other. He latches on immediately, pulling strongly on me.

"Ahhh, Edward," I moan, letting my head fall backwards and shoving both hands into his hair, gripping tightly. After a moment, he moves his mouth to the other side. He slides both of his hands to my ass, then slowly glides them up my back, scraping lightly with his fingernails. He wraps his arms around me tightly as he continues to torture my breasts with his mouth. "Oh, God, Edward….please."

"Stella, Jesus," he murmurs against my skin. "I want you." He pulls my nipple back into his mouth – I feel his tongue moving across it before he sucks again.

When I whimper quietly, he pulls back and looks up at me. I smile slightly at him and swallow audibly.

"Straddle me," he says, putting his hands on each side of my waist to steady me as we switch leg positions, mine now on the outside of his. "Fuck, you're beautiful, Stella. So beautiful," he says, lifting one hand to my neck to pull my mouth to his. He moves his other hand down between my legs, skimming over my clit and thrusting two fingers inside me. I pull my mouth away from his as I gasp, but it doesn't faze Edward – he moves his mouth to my neck as he pumps his fingers in and out of me a few times.

"Please, Edward. I need you," I beg. He looks at me again, then tugs me gently until I start to lower myself onto him. We keep our eyes locked together as our bodies meet. When we're completely joined, I wrap my arms tightly around his shoulders, pressing our chests together. He scoots forward in the tub and helps me move my legs to wrap around him, pushing him even more deeply inside me. I whimper again and bury my head in his neck.

"Jesus, I missed – missed this," he murmurs into my shoulder.

"Me, too," I whisper, then rock my hips gently against his.

"Stella….you feel so good," he groans. I raise my head up to kiss him, brushing my tongue against his until he pushes his hips up against me.

I can't figure out how this will work – with my legs wrapped around him, I have no leverage to move myself. As if he knows my thoughts, he murmurs into my mouth. "Just rock against me, baby."

My body responds to his words immediately … innately. We push slowly against each other, our heavy breathing and the splashing, bubbling water the only sounds in the room for a couple of minutes. He's so deep this way and since I have no way to move off him, he's continuously rubbing my g-spot.

"Edward…," I pant as I feel the tension, the pleasure, starting to build. I move my hips faster against him.

"I know, Bella. I'm not gonna last either," he responds, sliding his hands to my hips to help control my movements. Finally, he lifts and lowers me several times.

"Edward... oh my God," I moan as pleasure overtakes me, radiating in waves through my body. I clutch his shoulders more tightly and lower my mouth to his shoulder, sucking gently.

He lifts me once more, then groans as I feel him release inside me. "Baby ... God ... fuck," he groans, wrapping his arms around my back and squeezing as he buries his face in my neck.

We stay there, our bodies still connected, for several minutes, our arms still tight around each other, our mouths pressing kisses against each other's skin. I raise my head slightly and see that I left a hickey on the top of his shoulder. I smile as I lean down to kiss it, then turn my face toward his neck and rest it there, sighing contentedly.

"Are you getting cold?" he asks in a few more minutes, stroking my back gently.

"A little. What's this?" I ask, grabbing the bright yellow object from the basket on the side of the tub. "You have a rubber duckie?" I sit up to look at him, laughing. I squeeze the duck and laugh louder when it squeaks back at me.

"It's Riley's," he says, joining in the laughter. At last, his eyes are shining again.

"Yeah, sure," I tease, then squeal when he tickles me. I thrash around, splashing even more water onto the floor. When we both stop laughing, I stand to get out of the tub.

"What the plan for tomorrow, Ned?" I ask as I wrap a towel around myself, then grab another to start mopping up the floor.

"I'll do that," he says, taking the towel from me and bending down to clean up the floor. "I was thinking we could make a deal since I'm an early riser and you're ...not."

"What kind of deal?" I ask suspiciously.

"Tomorrow we get up early and go for a run. Sunday we sleep in as late as you want. Monday we get up by nine," he offers, smiling up at me.

"Ned, you are amazingly easy to negotiate with. I guess I should try to make some changes, so you don't think I'm easy, too," I say, then giggle as he waggles his eyebrows at me. "I'll agree to Saturday and Sunday... make it ten on Monday and we have a deal."

"Deal," he says, holding his hand out for me to shake on it.

"Deal," I reply, shaking and then leaning down to kiss him.

We get into bed a few minutes later and lie on our sides facing each other, talking. Just when I think I'm finally victorious because I'm wearing pajamas tonight and Ned hasn't said anything, he pulls me toward him.

"Your pajamas are cute, but they're in the way," he says.

"In the way of what?" I tease, glad that his earlier buoyant mood has returned after the bathtub incident.

"My hands," he laughs. "I need tactile freedom. Your pajamas are infringing on my right to touch your body freely."

"Touching my body is a privilege, not a right," I say, quirking one eyebrow at him.

He laughs and leans in to kiss me. "True, Stella. It's a privilege I don't take lightly, either. Now, will you please take them off?" he asks, his eyes glinting with humor in the darkness.

"I don't know, Ned. Are you going to make it worth my while?" I ask.

"Definitely," he answers, rolling slightly and pushing me onto my back. He hovers over me, kissing down my neck and across my upper chest as he skims one hand up my side – now that he knows exactly where I'm most ticklish. When I squirm and giggle underneath him, he raises up and pulls the tank top off of me. By the time he gets my pants off a few minutes later, I've decided that wearing pajamas to bed with Ned – knowing he'll pull them off me later – is the way to go.

* * *

Saturday morning, he wakes me up before eight. I do not complain. I also do not hop right out of bed.

"Bella," he says warningly as I'm still trying to wake up, "you said you'd get up."

"I'm going to, Ned," I reply testily. "Give me a freaking minute here." I stretch, arching my back and reaching over my head, smirking when I hear his low groan. He hates it when I stretch like this. Well, he likes it if he's still in bed with me, but this morning he's already dressed.

As soon as my eyes are open, they search for his. He's looking back at me from where he's sitting on the edge of the bed – on his side. Out of my reach. Probably smart on his part or I'd be trying to lure him back in here where it's warm and comfortable. "It's going to be nice today. Want to do something outside this afternoon?" he asks.

"Sure….what did you have in mind?"

"We could hang by the lake," he suggests.

"Okay. Why am I up so early again?"

"We're going to go for a run and then get breakfast, Stella. Up and at 'em, remember?"

I climb out of bed grumbling about early risers just to amuse him. He laughs as he tosses me a t-shirt; I pull it on before heading to the bathroom to get dressed for our run.

After about fifteen minutes of running, I'm completely annoyed by Ned. He wants to race every few minutes and he taunts me like a seven-year-old when he wins each time.

"I'm never running with you again," I announce, slowing down to a walk after our last sprint.

"Why?" he asks, surprise evident on his face. Jesus, he doesn't even see this side of himself.

"Because you're acting like a child. Not everything is a flipping race," I complain. "Plus, you're like seven inches taller than me. It would be a miracle of science for me to beat you stride for stride."

"Oooooh, someone's grouchy," he laughs. I flip him off and take off at a full run, flipping him off again when he passes me in twelve steps – and lightly smacks my ass as he does it. I try really hard not to laugh, but I can't help it.

When he stops few feet up the sidewalk and offers to carry me piggy back, I let him. He carries me all the way to the bakery where he orders us breakfast sandwiches, coffee and water. As we eat outdoors at a little table outside the bakery, I know I should be uneasy about the way we are acting like a couple, talking quietly and trading pieces of the newspaper that was lying here. But I can't bring myself to care.

* * *

Once we get back to his house and we've each showered, he insists on going to pick out a porch swing. We go to a couple of different stores before we find one that he likes. He keeps asking if I like it, too. He smiles widely when I tell him yes and offer to choose some outdoor pillows for it. As moody and intense as he was last night, I wasn't expecting to see this more carefree side of him today. It seems as though nothing could upset him today.

Back at his house, I help him hang it up and then we gingerly sit in it together, hoping it holds our combined weight. He's smug as a bug in a rug when it does. Damn thing doesn't even squeak as he pushes us back and forth.

In the mid-afternoon, we wander toward the lake slowly, enjoying the sunny, warm day. I brighten when we get closer to the lake and I see the different rental boats drifting around.

"Can we rent a canoe?" I ask, looking up at him excitedly.

"Sure…have you ever paddled before?" he asks.

"No. Why? Do I have to take a class? As much as you like telling people what to do, I just assumed you'd be able to school me," I snark, smiling up at him when he smirks under his sunglasses.

Edward pays for the canoe and we walk out onto the small dock where the attendant hands us each a paddle and holds the canoe steady for us to get in. I'm unsure if I'm supposed to get in the front or the back and look uncertainly from the dock attendant to Edward, hoping for guidance. When no one says anything, I decide to sit in the back.

"Get in the front, Stella," Ned bosses. I turn to fully look at him, one eyebrow raised. He should recognize my facial expression from that first day in his office...when he told me to sit. He sighs and tilts his head slightly to the side in concession before he speaks again. "Please get in the front, Stella." Okay, much nicer tone.

"But I want to sit in back," I say quietly.

"Next time. You said you've never been in a canoe," he replies.

"But I want to steer," I insist.

"You can actually steer from the front or back. But, you're not steering the first time," he says sternly. "Please get in the front."

"Fine," I huff, climbing onto the front seat.

"Fine," he retorts snottily, sitting down on the back seat leaving the middle seat empty between us. We push away from the dock and he starts instructing me about how to paddle.

"Freaking bossy semi-asshole," I mutter.

"You know the sound of your voice carries quite well over the water, Bella. I heard all of that," he says testily.

"You were supposed to," I say, turning around and sticking my tongue out at him. He laughs then and motions for me to turn back around.

We paddle along in silence for a few minutes.

"You're doing great, Bella. You sure you've never done this before?" he asks teasingly.

"Nope, Ned. Some of us are just naturally good at things," I say. I'm talking about him, not me, but he doesn't know that. He chuckles lightly and nudges me in the back softly with the handle of his paddle.

"Talk to me," he prods.

"Hmmm, what do you want to talk about?" I ask.

"Anything," he says. Jesus, he should know by now not to leave things that open with me.

"Okay….words that gross you out. I'll go first. Pustule."

"Sick! I don't want to talk about gross stuff," he says, but I hear the amusement in his voice.

"You said I could talk about anything. Crusty."

He's laughing as he tosses his own word in. "Congeal."

"Good one, Ned. See? It's fun. Squishy."

"Curdle."

"Mucus."

"Fester."

"Seepage."

"Oh, that's gross, Stella. Um….squat."

I laugh out loud now. I can't paddle anymore. I pull my paddle in and lie back on the seat separating us to look up at him. He's smiling down at me, wearing his stupid, freaking hot Ray Bans, with his stupid freaking hot jaw scruff. Kiss him or continue grossing him out? Hmmm, I'll keep up the wordplay for now. I smile sweetly up at him.

"Flaccid."

He laughs and leans forward to look into my eyes. "Getting a little personal there, Stella, aren't you? Moist."

"Squirt." I can barely get the word out because I'm laughing so hard now.

"Crevice."

"Oh my god, these words are gross and you're totally turning me on by saying them," I announce, reaching up to grab his hair and pull him to me. I've never kissed anyone upside-down before – it's both weird and sexy. He reaches a hand into my hair and then slides it down my neck, over my shoulder and down to my breast. After one full-frontal fondle, he moves his hand to the side where it's a little less conspicuous. He moves his fingers slowly back and forth against the side of my breast, teasing me. Groaning into his mouth, I grip his hair harder, smiling when he groans back at me. He moves his tongue against mine and I squirm around a bit as my desire increases. Panting, I pull my mouth away, turning my head slightly to the side.

"I really want to make you come," he whispers against my ear.

"I really want to have sex in a canoe," I whisper back. But the canoe we are in is not conducive to sex because the molded plastic seats are set in place and can't be moved. It's not an option anyway, considering it's a sunny Saturday afternoon in Seattle on a holiday weekend. There are a bajillion people around.

"Do you say things like that just to torment me?" he asks, running his tongue along the shell of my ear. I move around a bit more, unable to lie still with his tongue and hand doing what they're doing.

"Jesus, let me up, Ned. We can't do this here and if I don't stop you now, I will end up letting this lake full of people watch while I get felt up," I say, turning my head to look back up at him. He smiles and kisses me once more, then leans back and puts an arm under my back as I start to sit up, helping push me back upright.

We paddle around the lake a little longer, then take the canoe back to the dock. We spend the rest of the afternoon by the lake, alternately sitting in the sun and the shade. We both behave ourselves until finally, at dinner time, Ned suggests we grab food to go from one of the nearby restaurants before we walk back to his place. On the walk back to his house, he starts with me again, palming my ass as we walk, then slinging his arm across my shoulders and resting his hand on the swell of my breast.

"Ned, I hope you're not very hungry," I say lowly, looking up at him.

"Why? Stella, we've got a ton of food in this bag," he says, holding his other hand up like he's reminding me that he's carrying our dinner in the brown paper bag.

"Ned, are you being dense on purpose? I'm trying to tell you that I'm ripping your clothes off as soon as the front damn door is locked," I say as I stand next to him while he unlocks the front door.

"Well, in that case, fuck the food," he says, tossing the bag inside the now-open doorway. He turns to grab me then picks me up and walks into the house. He kicks the door closed behind us and I hear the deadbolt slide into place as he kisses me quickly before he sets me down.

Once I'm on my feet, he kicks his shoes off and turns to me with a grin, arms open wide at his side. "Rip away, baby."

* * *

The rest of the weekend passes quickly. We laugh a lot, we read, we enjoy sleeping in during the rain on Sunday morning and then staying in bed for awhile after we're done sleeping. Sunday night, we cook dinner together – rather, I cook dinner while Edward sits at the counter drinking wine. We eat in front of the tv that night watching movies until it's pretty late. Once again, we walk upstairs to bed like a couple and once again I'm nervous, but not as nervous as Friday. I put my pajamas on and get into bed. We talk for awhile, but don't have sex...and Ned lets me leave the pajamas on...until the middle of the night.

I wake up to roving hands and in short order, I'm pulling at his t-shirt and boxers and he's pulling at my shorts and tank top. Neither of us says anything this time, but as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I study him, study his face. He pushes into me slowly and I let my eyes slide shut, enjoying the feeling of pleasure that his body always brings. When he stops moving and touches my face, I open my eyes, reaching up to cover his hand with mine. He turns his hand and intertwines our fingers, then lowers them to the mattress beside my head. We both leave our eyes open, our gazes locked together as we start moving again. With my free hand, I caress his chest, the arm I can reach, his face … never letting my eyes leave his. When he finally climaxes, grunting out his pleasure, I try to memorize the look on his face. Then I reach up and pull his face down to mine, kissing him gently. After a moment, he rolls to his back, taking me with him. I let him arrange me across him the way he wants and fall back asleep covering him, my head resting near his heart.

XXXX

Alice and Riley come by on Monday morning for a while. Amazingly, Alice called first this time. Riley is still intent on being my friend, sitting on my lap again and insisting that I help her with the tea party she gives for all of us in her playhouse. I'm still uneasy around her, but she's impossible not to like. She asks me again to come to her birthday party. Once again, I tell her I'll try.

Early Monday afternoon, I tell Ned that I have to go home. He tries to talk me into staying, but I've got to get some work done before we leave for New York on Thursday. As I leave his house, I insist that I can't see him until we leave; I absolutely have to have my shit together for this trip. We negotiate texting and one phone call on Wednesday to touch base about any last minute issues. Then we stand on his front porch saying goodbye and kissing for ten minutes, until I know if I don't leave, I'll end up spending another night – because I really don't want to go.

"Okay, Ned," I murmur against his lips. "On the count of three, we let go, got it?"

"Mmhmm," he replies against my lips before moving his mouth to my neck.

I give him one last squeeze before I count quickly. On three we both let go and take a step back, then we both laugh. I bend down to pick up my bag and go down the steps to put a little more distance between us.

"I'll call you Wednesday," he says, stuffing his hands in his back jean pockets and smiling crookedly at me. He looks so cute that I almost run back up the steps. But I force myself to nod and smile, then turn to walk to my car where it's parked on the street. He stays on the porch, watching me, until we wave goodbye as I pull away.

* * *

Thursday's flight to New York is uneventful. We sit next to each other on the plane, but keep everything professional, as I requested. We talk normally, but don't touch each other at all. By the time we get to the hotel in New York, it's almost eight o'clock and I really just want to go over my presentation one last time and relax.

Edward talks me into letting him order room service for us. I agree to eat in his room, but tell him I am going right back to my room afterward. He calls when the food arrives and I take the elevator up to the floor he's on. He lets me into his suite and leads me to the dining table where the food is already set out waiting for us.

"Wow, Ned. Nice digs. I had no idea your middle name was Fancypants," I tease as I check out his opulent suite. He laughs but doesn't otherwise respond.

"Wine?" he asks, holding up a bottle of white that's already open. I see that he's already poured a glass for himself.

"No, thanks. I still feel dehydrated from the flight. I'll stick with water," I say.

"Are you okay? You're not nervous about tomorrow, are you?" he asks, looking concerned.

"I wasn't until you just brought it up," I answer, panic beginning to course through my veins. I drop into the chair he pulled out for me and cover my face with my hands.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that," he says with a light chuckle. He comes to stand behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders and kneading them gently. It feels heavenly and I immediately feel the tension I've been holding there start to dissipate. "You have nothing to be nervous about, Bella. You'll do a fantastic job and you know you've already won over Jack. This is only for appearances. And I'll be there, baby. I got your back."

I frown, trying to take in everything he just said. One thing sticks out at me: He called me baby. I don't think he's ever called me baby when we weren't engaged in some sort of sexual position before. That makes me nervous all over again even though I'm pretty sure he just said it to comfort me.

"On second thought, I'll take a half glass of wine. Maybe it'll help me sleep," I say. He steps away from me to pour it, then sits down beside me so we can eat. While we eat, he talks about our schedule for tomorrow morning, letting me know how long he thinks the meeting will run and a basic rundown of what will happen. By the time we're done, I do feel better, but that could be a result of the glass of wine which definitely left me feeling relaxed and warm. When I'm ready to go, he walks me back to my room and kisses me goodnight at the door.

"So, you'll move upstairs with me tomorrow?" he asks, making sure the plan we agreed on last weekend is still in place.

"Yes, Edward. After the business part of this trip is done, I'll be comfortable staying with you," I say, smiling up at him as I lean against the door to my room.

"Okay. I'll meet you in the lobby in the morning," he says quietly, leaning in to kiss me one more time.

I go in and shut the door, smiling again as I look out the peephole and see him still standing in the hall.

"Go back to your room, Ned," I say through the crack.

He laughs and puts his eye up to the peephole. "Goodnight, Stella," he says before turning and walking away.

* * *

In the Hale conference room the next morning, I set up everything I need for the presentation and fight the urge to pace when I'm done. I'm nervous, especially when I notice that the lone woman seated at the long conference table is looking at me with pure, unmasked contempt. She's breathtakingly beautiful with long, blonde hair and vivid blue eyes. I would guess she's near my age, maybe a year or two older. I can't imagine what I've done to provoke her already since I haven't begun speaking, but it's clear she will not be receptive to what I have to say.

In short order, the meeting begins with Jack presiding via satellite. As he's addressing the board, I sneak a look at Edward where he's sitting at the opposite end of the table. He smiles slightly at me and as I smile back, I feel myself calming. It is the complete opposite of what I expected. I assumed his presence would make me more anxious, not less. I don't have time to dwell on it though; I know I'm presenting first thing.

Jack speaks to me, then, giving me the floor and I begin my presentation. It goes fairly well – I don't fall down, lose my voice, or forget any major points. Besides the seated board members, there is one secretary seated to the side taking notes. Right after I begin speaking, a blond man in a suit quietly lets himself in, remaining standing beside the door. After a few minutes, Edward notices him and, scowling, begins to get up. The man sneers Edward's way before going back out the door before Edward can reach him. I continue the presentation without interruption even though I'm curious as to who the man was and what that was all about.

Once I'm finished, I answer the questions the board members ask, wait quietly during the vote – which is unanimous since no one goes against Jack just like he said – and smile at Edward when it's over. Jack speaks to me again from the plasma tv on the wall. "Congratulations, Bella. I'd like to speak to you after the board meeting. You'll have to step out into the hallway for a bit now, but Edward will call you back in when I'm ready," he says with a smile.

I grab my bag and step out into the hallway, hurriedly texting Jas and Emmett, letting them know that we landed the account. Jasper calls me immediately – it's the middle of the night for Emmett in Hawaii, but I know he'll call when he gets up.

"Congrats, Baby Swan," Jasper says. "I knew you could do it."

"Thanks, Jas," I reply, letting the relief settle over me at last. I've been working on this account for months and the knowledge that I landed it for the firm largely on my own pleases me immensely. It's my first really big account and I smile as I stand at the windows looking at the city bustling down below. I can't wait to get out and see some of it with Edward. Jasper and I talk for a few more minutes about the Hale account. He's already down in Texas as his parents' ranch, so we talk about his family a bit, too. Hearing about everything going on in his life makes me miss him like crazy.

"When am I going to see you? I don't think we've ever been apart this long," I say, trying unsuccessfully to keep the whine out of my voice.

"I know, Baby Swan. I miss you, too. I'll be back in rainy Seattle before you know it and we'll do something then, all right? Just you and me," he says, trying to soothe me.

I feel a sudden chill run up my spine and settle at the back of my neck. I turn my head around slowly and see the blond man from the conference room standing in the hallway behind me. His eyes jerk up to meet mine, but had been aimed lower. Before I turned to face him, he had clearly been ogling my ass.

I turn back toward the window and tell Jas that I need to go, promising to text him pictures later of whatever Edward and I go see. When I turn around again after disconnecting, the man is still standing there, still staring at me. If he wasn't acting so creepy, he would be nice-looking. His blond hair is cropped short and he has very pretty, bright blue eyes.

He steps toward me now that I'm off the phone. "Ms. Swan, that was a great presentation – well, what I saw of it," he says, smiling at me as he reaches out and grasps my upper arm. Ever heard of a handshake, weirdo?

"Thank you, Mr...," I say, waiting for him to tell me his name.

"Jamie. You can call me Jamie," he answers, sliding his hand down toward mine. I pull my arm away gently before he reaches my hand and take a step backward, putting some distance between us. He's still smiling at me in what I'm sure is supposed to be a charming way. It's not charming, though. It's eerie - there's something off about him, something I can't put my finger on – something besides the blatant leering at my body he was doing earlier...and still. Now he's moved to my chest.

"You're based in Seattle, correct?" he asks my boobs.

"Yes," I answer uncomfortably, unsure what information he's trying to gather from me and not wanting to disclose anything I shouldn't.

"Flew out here with Cullen, then, did you?" he asks as his eyes finally move back up to settle on my face.

"We were on the same flight, yes," I answer.

"Well, that's….interesting," he says. "Would you like me to give you a tour of our New York offices?"

"I'd like to," I lie. "But I'm afraid I'll have to take a rain check. Mr. Hale asked to speak with me after the meeting concludes." Thank goodness Jack wanted a word with me.

Just as I'm done speaking, the doorknob of the conference room turns and the door opens a crack...then shuts again. Jamie begins backing away from me.

"That's too bad. I would have enjoyed...spending time with you," he says, winking at me before he turns away and walks briskly up the hall.

The conference room door opens again and Edward peeks around the doorway. "Ready, Bella? Jack is waiting," he says, smiling widely at me. I nod and pick up my messenger briefcase then walk back into the room.

Jack has me pick up the phone extension so we can speak privately. He praises my preparedness and tells me I did a great job before teasingly offering to lure me away from McCarty and Whitlock to work directly for him. By the time we hang up, I'm grinning from ear to ear. I turn to see that several board members are still in the room talking, including the bitchy woman who doesn't like me. I swallow nervously as she approaches me.

"Nice presentation," she says as she nears me. Her tone is polite, but I hear something decidedly unfriendly underneath.

"Thank you," I answer tentatively. I relax internally as I see Edward approaching.

"Rosalie, it's nice to see you as always. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to speak to you before the meeting began," he says, coming to stand on my other side. "Bella, this is Rosalie Hale, Jack's daughter and a board member."

"Oh! It's very nice to meet you, Ms. Hale," I say respectfully, smiling genuinely at her even though she's still looking at me icily.

"Likewise," she says, inclining her head slightly toward me before turning her full attention to Edward. "You're looking well, Edward. In town for long?"

"At your father's request, I'm staying for the weekend and showing Bella the sights," Edward says flatly. My stomach clenches slightly at his tone – making it sound like it's only Jack's request that is making us stay...forcing us to endure each other's company for the weekend. I know he didn't mean it the way it sounded, but it still stings.

"Will you see Victoria while you're here?" she asks, looking up at him with a megawatt smile.

And just like that, I'm an outsider in this conversation. I turn away from them and busy myself by picking up the copies of my proposal that some of the board members left on the conference table. They should be shredded, not left lying around. I walk all the way around the table, taking my time and tuning out everything else in the room.

What if he does want to see her? He said he was in love with her – and he also said that when he saw her last year, she had changed. But... what if he does want to see her, try again and I'm holding him back? That's not fair to him. I should tell him... tell him that it's okay if he wants to bail and spend time with her.

Suddenly, I hear my name being called. "Bella? Bella?" he says.

"What?" I say, turning around to face Edward.

"I said, are you ready?" he asks.

"Mmhmm," I answer, grabbing my bag and trying to get my gaze up to meet his...but it doesn't quite make it.

It's not until we're in the car heading back to the hotel that he turns to look at me. I'm staring at my hands which are clasped firmly in my lap.

"Bella, don't let Rosalie upset you. She was trying to intimidate you," he says, putting his index finger under my chin and forcing my face up.

"It worked," I respond flatly. "Yay for Rosalie."

"Bella, she's exceedingly jealous of other women, especially other women involved with Hale Software or for whom her father shows affection. You are both of those things. I'm not sure if she thinks you and I involved or if she was just trying to make you uncomfortable by bringing up Victoria," he says. He has succeeded in tilting my chin up toward him, but my eyes are, and will remain, firmly downcast.

"It's okay, you know. If you want to see Victoria, I mean," I say quietly, hesitantly.

"Bella, I told you before that I saw her last year. I don't have any desire to see her again. The girl she was ...the feelings we shared ...they're gone. I don't care about anything this weekend except spending it with you – however you want to," he says. He sounds so sincere that my eyes lift to his of their own accord, unable to stop themselves.

"There she is," he says softly, leaning in to kiss me.

"There who is?" I ask, pulling away before our lips meet.

"My NYC virgin," he says chuckling lightly and trying again to kiss me. This time I let him. "Let's do something about that, yeah?"

"Okay."

"Where to first?" he asks.

* * *

As we fly home to Seattle Sunday evening, I sigh and lean over against Edward's shoulder, thinking back on the whirlwind weekend we had in New York.

"Tired?" he asks quietly, leaning his head down near mine.

"Exhausted …in a good way," I reply, smiling up at him.

"What was your favorite thing?" he inquires.

I'm not sure I can choose a favorite. We spent time in Central Park, took a cruise around the harbor to see the skyline and the Statue of Liberty, saw Times Square at night, paid our respects at the World Trade Center. We looked at the city from the observation deck of the Empire State Building and walked inside St. Patrick's Cathedral. I think we hit most of the top tourist destinations. But we also ate dinner in the coolest little Italian restaurant, ate lunch in Chinatown, and went to the biggest toy store I've ever seen to buy Riley's birthday presents.

In the evenings, Ned and I got back to the hotel room worn out. Well, not that worn out. My face heats at the memory of the quick, passionate shower sex on Friday night and the slower, gentle sex on Saturday night. He let me sleep in this morning so late, that there wasn't time for even a quickie, but he didn't seem to mind.

In fact, he was affectionate today in ways he hadn't been before. There's a level of physical comfort between us that I've only ever experienced before with Jas. Em and I are affectionate, too, but it's not like this. With Edward, it's like we don't have to think about it. Our hands just seek each other, our bodies just gravitate until they're close together. I slip my arm through his and squeeze gently.

"Everything, Edward. Everything was my favorite," I reply softly, smiling when I hear him laugh in response and kiss the top of my head.

I sleep for most of the flight and smile sleepily at Edward when he wakes me as we begin descending into Seattle.

"Come home with me," he says, his green eyes daring me to say no… pleading with me to say yes.

"Can't, Ned. I have to go to work in the morning," I respond, looking away, tilting my neck back and forth trying to get the crick out of it...the crick I got from spending three hours leaning over against his shoulder to sleep.

"I'll take you home early in the morning," he says. "As early as you want."

"Ned," I say, turning back to him and reaching up to touch his cheek.

"Please, Stella. Please come home with me tonight," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss my lips and then my forehead softly. I feel my will crumbling.

"I'm really tired. I just want to go to sleep," I argue, hoping that squashing any thought of sex tonight will cause him to reconsider.

"I don't care if we have sex, Stella. I'm just not ready to be away from you, not yet," he says.

And there's the problem. I'm not ready to be away from him either. But this is not what we're supposed to be doing. All right, I will give myself one more night… and then I really am going to get my head back on straight where Ned's concerned.

My face relaxes into a smile as I nod up at him. When he smiles back, I feel my heart skip a beat and know that righting this ship will be more difficult than I thought… but I guess I'll worry about that tomorrow.

* * *

**A/N again: So...Rosalie makes her first appearance. You already know she'll be back. Thoughts? Theories on how the hell she ends up engaged to Edward? Let me know what you think!**


	11. Blurry

**Chapter 11: Blurry**

**A/N: So, not so long this time between updates. This chapter is really the first third of the planned chapter, but as it approached thirty pages, I decided to cut it in two. The other two-thirds is finished and I'll post it sometime tomorrow, after I proof it. :) **

**A couple of readers have rec'ced me around, so thanks a million BilliCullen and pixiekat7! **

**I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

Friday afternoon, I sit at my desk proofing the mock-up of the print ads for Hale Software. The campaign launches late next month, so it's practically all I've worked on since returning from New York.

Even now, twelve days after returning, thoughts of the New York trip still make me smile. I had so much fun and it seemed like Edward did, too. He seemed genuinely excited to play tour guide and experience the city with me. I know I'll never forget it.

Since we got back, Edward and I have fallen into a new pattern...seeing each other every day. The first ten days, we ate dinner together every night. Eight of those nights we ended up spending the night together, too. But he's been out of town the last two days, so I haven't seen him since he left my apartment late Tuesday night. We talked for an hour on the phone last night though, and he's picking me up in four hours and fifteen minutes for Riley's birthday party. Then I'm staying the weekend at his house. It's his birthday this weekend, too, and I'm nervous about the gift I got for him. I want him to like it – I think he'll like it. But I'm still anxious to see his reaction.

I'm startled out of my daydream by a knock on the doorjamb of my office.

"Shit, Jas. You scared the hell out of me," I exclaim when I look up, holding a hand over my racing heart.

"Sorry, Baby Swan. Got a minute?" Jasper asks, smiling widely at me when I nod. I feel a little bad – he's been back a week and we still haven't spent any time together. He shuts the door and settles into one of the chairs in front of my desk. I recognize the managerial posture immediately – he's on my turf, but he's clearly planning to be in charge of this conversation… which leads me to believe that I'm not going to like the subject, whatever it is. He's trying to make me comfortable by letting me stay in my own space.

"Spit it out, Jasper. What did you come in here to bitch at me about?" I ask, smirking at him.

"Am I that transparent?" he chuckles, settling back into the chair a little further. "So, how are things with Edward?"

"Good," I reply vaguely, unwilling to give any real information until I find out what prompted this little inquisition.

"Emmett says you're seeing an awful lot of him," he says, trying again. Ah, it's a classic case of the tattle-tale. Emmett's been yapping about my sex life to dad. What's the best way to answer? I decide to go with sass.

"Well, given our sex buddy status, yes, I think it's safe to say that I see _all_ of him," I say, smirking.

Jasper sighs in exasperation. "Baby Swan, that's not what I meant and you know it. Are you seeing him every day?"

"Not _every _day," I grumble, lowering my eyes to the papers on my desk.

"Christ, Baby Swan. You've got feelings for him, don't you?" Jasper asks.

I close my eyes briefly before opening them and looking up to meet Jasper's gaze. "Jasper, Edward and I have become friends, yes. But we're not…you know, romantic. I'm close to him the way I'm close to you and Emmett …we just have sex when we're done talking," I say, trying to explain the best I can.

"I'm worried about you, Baby Swan. I think the lines are getting blurred here," he says, holding up a hand toward me when he sees that I'm about to let loose. "I'm not going to say anything else, so simmer down over there. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"Jas, I'm okay… really. I'm comfortable with things the way they are," I tell him earnestly. He smiles at me and I smile back, wanting to get up and hug him, but we never do that in the office. Jessica doesn't need any ammunition for her gossip chain. "Thank you for worrying about me. I love you." That's my signal that I'm done talking about this with him.

"Love you, too, Baby Swan," he says. "I'm out of town next week, but let's have dinner the next week, okay?" I agree and then he asks to see the Hale mock-ups, indicating that he's ready to move on from the Edward conversation, too. He stays in my office for over an hour, going over several campaigns I've been working on. When Jasper finally leaves, I lean back in my chair, sighing heavily and trying not to dwell on what he said.

* * *

I race to open the door when I hear the knock, fumbling with the chain and laughing before I finally get it open.

"Happy birthday weekend!" I say loudly, flinging myself into Edward's waiting arms.

"Thanks. Are you ready to go?" he asks, smiling down at me.

"Not quite," I answer, pulling him inside and pushing the door shut with my foot. I smile up at him and reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him. It's only been two days, but it seems like longer since I've had my arms around him, my lips on him. He kisses me back hungrily for a moment and then pulls back slightly.

"Bella, we have to go. They're waiting," he says quietly, resting his forehead against mine.

"I know," I sigh, moving one hand up from his shoulder to run through his hair. "I'm ready now."

"I'll make it up to you later," he promises, kissing me quickly once more before we pull apart. I pick up the wrapped packages and Edward picks up my overnight bag, then we go out the door.

"I could have driven to your house," I tell him on the elevator.

"I know. But this way you can't escape until I bring you home Sunday," he teases, bumping me playfully with his elbow. By the end of the weekend, Edward and I will have spent twelve out of the last fourteen days together. Or fifteen out of the last eighteen if I count New York. Clearly my plan to pull away and put this relationship back into perspective isn't working.

I've tried to be rational about it. I know we aren't romantically involved. But spending time with him – in bed and out of it – makes me so happy that I can't seem to stop. Even though I know it will hurt when he calls off this agreement someday – because I can't imagine I'll be the one who ends it – I don't have the strength to pull away from him now.

He's subdued as we drive to Alice's house, answering most of my questions with just one word, barely listening as I ramble about nothing. He suddenly exhales loudly and reaches toward me, grasping my hand tightly. "Bella, my dad will be here tonight," he says tensely.

"Okaaaaay," I say, unsure what he's trying to tell me. But there's no time for me to ask anything as we pull to the curb in front of what must be Alice's house. It's a cute little bungalow – perfect for her and Riley. As we get out of the car, Riley appears on the front steps, her little face lighting up when she sees us – or maybe when she sees the pile of presents in my arms.

"Uncle Edward! Uncle Edward!" she screams, running down the sidewalk to meet us. "You brought my friend, Bella!"

"I sure did, Riley," he says beaming at her as he picks her up. "Happy birthday, sunshine."

"It's not my real birfday until Sunday, Uncle Edward," she reminds him, looking at him like she should know this information already. "Bella, did you know it's my Uncle Edward's birfday Sunday, too?" she says, looking over at me.

"Yes, I did. Are you all ready for your party?" I ask, smiling at her.

Riley nods excitedly as she wiggles in Edward's arms. "Uncle Edward, I want Bella to carry me in," she whines. He smirks over at me as she dives toward me. I set the presents down on the hood of Edward's car just in time to catch her. She puts her little arms around my neck and squeezes so tightly that I can barely breathe, then rears back and puts her pudgy little hands on my cheeks, forcing me to look at her face.

"Bella," she says dramatically, her bright blue eyes shining, "wait 'til you see my cake! It's pink and purple 'cuz those are my favorites and there's ponies just like I told you. And I gets to wear _makeup_, see?" she asks, closing her eyelids briefly so I can see the purple eyeshadow she's wearing – as if I could have missed it. "And my pops is already here and I told him you would come and I told him you're Uncle Edward's special friend and that you get to sit on his counter and that you guys kiss."

I hear Edward sigh beside me and try to look at him, but Riley's not letting me turn my head.

"I get to meet your pops?" I ask, curious. Edward has never mentioned Riley's dad so I assumed he was out of the picture completely.

"Yep. He's right inside helping my mommy," she says. "Come _on_, Bella. Carry me inside." She pulls on my shoulders trying to get me to start walking.

"Riley Elizabeth," Edward says warningly.

She huffs back at him and I have trouble keeping a straight face. "_Fine_. Bella, would you please carry me inside?" she asks sweetly, batting her blue eyes and long eyelashes my way. When I say yes, she squeezes me around the neck again and plants a wet kiss on my cheek. This time I start walking before she can get herself in any more hot water with Edward.

Alice greets us at the door, smiling widely at me as she tries to take Riley.

"No, Mommy. Bella's carrying me," she insists. Alice rolls her eyes and leads the way inside. An older man comes around the corner from another room. He's good looking, but older than I thought Riley's father would be. He's got to be in his early fifties – geez, and Alice was only 21 when Riley was born? That's a little creepy. I wonder if he was a college professor or something. He has dark blond hair and gray-blue eyes, not anywhere near the same bright shade as Riley's.

"You must be Bella," he says, smiling warmly at me. "I've heard so much about you."

"Bella, this is my pops," Riley says helpfully. "Mommy calls him Grampy, but he said I could call him pops and I like that better." She pauses to look haughtily at Alice before she continues talking. I look at the man again, now seeing the resemblance Edward has to him in body type and jaw line – and I'm grateful that I didn't utter my misapprehension out loud. "Pops is mommy and Uncle Edward's daddy, too. I don't have a daddy here because he lives far away and I've never even _met_ him, but my mommy says if he met me, he'd love me 'cuz I'm her little love bug and everyone loves me. Do you love me, Bella?" she asks.

I smile genuinely at her as I answer. "Yes," I say quietly, surprised at the surge of emotion I feel in my chest when I speak the word. I realize immediately that it's true.

"I love you, too," she says, putting her hands on my cheeks again. She squeezes them together, making my mouth pucker up. "Fish kiss!" she says, puckering her mouth, too, and kissing me on the lips. She lets go of me and starts wiggling around which I guess means she wants down, so I set her back on her feet and laugh loudly as she runs out the back door into the yard.

"Thanks, Bella. That was sweet of you," Alice says from beside me. When I turn to look at her, her eyes are shining with unshed tears.

I shrug. "I think it's impossible not to love her," I answer, smiling when Alice grabs my hand and squeezes it.

I'm vaguely aware that Edward's father is waiting patiently to be properly introduced, so I turn my body slightly toward him.

"Edward. It's nice to see you, son. Happy birthday… almost," he says warmly.

"Thanks, Carlisle. This is my friend, Bella Swan. Bella, my father, Carlisle Cullen," Edward says stoically. Carlisle? Edward doesn't call him dad? He's told me they're not close, but his demeanor right now is downright cold. Mr. Cullen's face seems to fall a bit, but he recovers quickly and smiles at me.

"It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Cullen," I say, smiling back at him and holding out my hand for him to shake. He takes my hand between both of his.

"The pleasure is mine, Bella. And please call me Carlisle," he says, patting my hand gently before he lets go.

Before we can say any more, Alice claps her hands. "Okay, troops. I've got ten little girls arriving in fifteen minutes. Dad, Edward, your job is to corral them outside. Bella can help me with the food," she pauses to look questioningly at me, then continues when I nod. "This is a low-key party, but it will be noisy. Prepare yourselves."

* * *

Three hours later, I sink into Edward's hot tub and lean my head back against the side.

"Stella? Here's your drink," Edward says a minute later, climbing in beside me and handing me a plastic cup with a lot of blueberry vodka and a little club soda in it. "Cheers." He taps his glass against mine. His smells like whiskey.

"Thanks," I say, smiling tiredly over at him. He returns the lazy grin and we sit sipping our elixir in silence for a few minutes.

"Christ, they were loud," he remarks out of the blue. I laugh loudly and turn sideways, swinging my legs across his lap. He rubs his hand absently up and down my leg as he leans his head back against the side. "I really thought I was going to lose a limb or at least have a black eye before they finally got that piñata to crack. Then they were like a pack of rabid dogs fighting over the candy! It's the craziest thing I've ever seen. And that little brat in the polka dot dress tried to bite me, too."

"Lucy?" I ask, remembering the sweet-looking little girl.

"Lucy-fer, more like. She's definitely the spawn of satan," he groans.

I'm laughing hysterically by the time he's done talking – I think I'm slaphappy. I lean my head against his shoulder, trying to speak in between the giggles. "It's okay, Ned. You're home. You're safe. I've got you."

He's not quite done grousing, though. "I can't believe Alice would fucking ask us to babysit after that crap. I can take you home tomorrow before Riley comes over if you want. I know you're not that comfortable around kids," he says. My laughter dies down quickly at that statement.

"She's easy to be around. But if you want to take me home, that's –," I begin.

He sits up abruptly, dislodging my head from his shoulder. He looks at me earnestly. "No. I don't _want_ you to go," he insists.

I smile and stretch up to kiss him. "Then I'll stay," I murmur against his lips.

"Sorry you got stuck talking to my father for so long," he apologizes, pulling back from me.

"Why would you be sorry? I enjoyed talking to him. You're a lot like him, you know," I say, looking at his face, his guarded expression, anxiously. Shrugging noncommittally, he shifts his eyes to mine and I note with sadness that they're shielded, flat... not revealing whatever emotion is swirling inside him.

"If you say so," he responds blandly. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "But, it occurs to me that I've got a beautiful woman sitting in my hot tub covered by only three little triangles of fabric… I don't think this is the time to discuss my father." I know he's avoiding talking about his dad – I'm an expert at diverting these types of conversations. But I don't challenge him on it. Instead, I hook my arm around his neck and pull until, smirking, he opens his eyes to look at me. His eyes are shining again as he presses his lips back to mine.

We stay in the hot tub kissing until we're pruney, then we go inside and lie together on the couch. I doze on and off until finally, at midnight, he whispers in my ear, "Let's go up, Stella."

He leads me upstairs and peels the shorts and tank top off me, then tucks me into bed. A few minutes later, he gets in behind me and pulls me back against his chest, laying his arm across my waist and kissing the back of my shoulder. I reach my hand up to gently stroke through his hair a couple of times and turn my face toward his to kiss him goodnight before I sink into blissful sleep.

* * *

Sunday morning I get up at the crack of holy-crap-it's-still-dark-outside so I can fix the early-riser breakfast in bed for his birthday. I am as quiet as possible as I cook and arrange everything on the tray, then I sneak upstairs. When I walk into the bedroom, he's lying on his stomach, still sleeping. Setting the tray on the floor, I slip back into bed beside him and scoot up right next to him.

I put my top leg across the back of his thighs and kiss my way up his bare upper arm and shoulder until I get to his neck. When his lips begin to turn up at the corners, I speak.

"Happy birthday, Edward," I whisper in his ear, using my fingernails to scratch lightly across his back.

"Mmmm, morning. That feels good," he mumbles. "What smells so good?"

"I brought you breakfast," I say proudly. "At the ass-crack of dawn, thank you very much." I chuckle and move when he rolls onto his side to face me.

"You got up early to make me breakfast?" he asks, surprised. He finally gets his eyes open and looks at me. I nod eagerly at him. "Thank you." He leans toward me and kisses me, then I pull away to get the tray from the floor. He sits up and scratches both hands across his stomach a few times. Scooting up in the bed, he piles pillows against the headboard and insists that I sit and share the omelet once I get the tray into place. He laughingly feeds me bites and then opens his present when we're done.

"Stella, I love them," he says, staring down at the sterling and onyx cuff links.

"I wasn't sure what to get you," I say, shrugging.

"These are perfect," he insists, looking over at me. He looks genuinely pleased as he leans over to kiss me. "Do I get anything else for my birthday?" he murmurs against my lips.

"Hmm, let me move the tray and we'll see what we can come up with," I laugh. We end up spending most of the rainy day in bed – Edward says it's the best birthday he's had in years.

* * *

The following Saturday afternoon, Alice, Edward and I sit around Edward's fire pit watching Riley push one of her dolls around the yard in a play stroller.

"Edward, Dad and I went up to the cabin last Sunday for Riley's birthday. When's the last time you were up there?" Alice asks, looking curiously at her brother.

"Alice, I thought you were leaving," Edward remarks dryly.

She beams at him as she answers. "I am. I have a date. I haven't had a date for a very long time. Now how long since you've been to the cabin? Dad and I were saying maybe we should do the holidays there this year."

"I don't like going to the cabin, Alice," he answers through gritted teeth, sliding his eyes my way nervously.

"I know, Edward. I know it's difficult, but I think it's time. You should go and take Bella – go for the fourth of July next weekend," she suggests. I glance over at Riley, trying to pretend that I'm not paying attention to what they're talking about.

This is the second Saturday in a row that Edward and I are babysitting Riley. Last Saturday it was only for a couple of hours. Tonight, Riley is spending the night here. She still makes me a little uncomfortable and I didn't handle the temper tantrum she threw last weekend well at all, but Edward seemed to know what to do. I hear Edward tell Alice that he'll think about the cabin as she gets up to leave.

For dinner, Edward, Riley and I walk to the pizzeria a few blocks away. Riley insists on sitting right next to me in the booth and orders peckaroni pizza. She wants to know all about my family and I end up digging through my wallet to find a picture of my dad. I don't carry one of my mom.

"Your daddy is a policeman? He looks nice," Riley says. "I don't have a picture of my daddy, but my mommy says I have blonde hair and blue eyes just like him. I don't look like my mommy b'cept my nose. I have the same nose like my mommy."

"You're beautiful like your mommy," Edward chimes in, handing back the picture of my dad after looking at it.

"And I have girl parts like my mommy. Boys have boy parts. Girls have folds. You have folds, too, Bella?" she asks, looking up at me. I try not to laugh as I tell her yes. Edward changes the subject then, looking uneasy on his side of the booth. He distracts her by having her show me how well she can write her name, which segues into a conversation about going to Kindergarten in the fall.

As we're walking back to Edward's, Riley complains that she's tired so I pick her up and carry her the rest of the way. I'm hopeful she'll go to bed when we get back, but she perks up as soon as we're in the door. Edward gives her a bath and she bounces back downstairs smelling and looking sweet then sits down on the couch beside me. While Edward loads one of her favorite movies in the DVD player, she scoots down on the couch so she can put her feet on the coffee table like me.

"I like your toenails," she says, looking at my hot pink polish. "Sometimes my mommy paints my toes, too."

"Do you want me to paint your toenails, Riley?" I ask. When she nods enthusiastically, I go upstairs and dig around in my bag, hoping I still have a bottle of nail polish in it. After I find it, I lead her outside to sit on the porch swing.

She holds really still while I paint her tiny toenails. We swing slowly while they dry, then she wants to finish watching her movie, so we go back in and lie down on the couch together. As we're lying there, she scoots down, putting her foot on top of mine.

"Now we match, Bella," she says, tilting her head back to look up at me. "Uncle Edward, you should take a picture of me and Bella's feets. We go together." Laughing, Edward gets up and grabs a camera, first shooting a photo of our feet and then one of our faces. Before the movie is over, she falls asleep next to me on the couch and Edward carries her upstairs to bed. When he comes back, he stretches out next to me on the couch and pulls me into his arms.

"Thanks for helping with her tonight, Bella. You were good with her," he murmurs into my neck. He pushes one hand up the front of my shirt, caressing my side tenderly before sliding up to cup my breast.

"Edward, what about Riley?" I gasp, arching into his hand.

"She's out. She's a great sleeper until about three," he chuckles. "Then she'll probably come find us."

"So I'm going to get to wear pajamas all night tonight?" I ask, smiling.

He chuckles into my neck. "Mmhmm," he answers, pushing the cup of my bra down and circling my nipple with his thumb.

"God, Ned, that feels good," I sigh.

"Well, hopefully, or else I'm losing my touch," he quips, finally raising his mouth to mine, stroking his tongue against mine. We undress each other unhurriedly, taking our time as we touch and kiss each other. When he finally rolls on top of me and pushes inside, we smile at each other and then he kisses me gently, his lips moving slowly against mine. We move together at the same slow pace for several minutes until I beg him to speed up.

After we're both sated, we walk upstairs together. When we settle into bed, both of us wearing pajamas, we laugh and kiss goodnight chastely. At three o'clock, Riley comes in as Edward predicted and climbs over me to settle between us. Edward kisses the top of her head and then the top of mine before we all go back to sleep.

In the morning, Riley and Edward bring me breakfast in bed – cereal – and I tell them thanks and whisper loudly to Riley that I'm glad she didn't let Uncle Edward cook. Her giggle and Edward's pretend scowl make me laugh so much that I don't even mind not getting my usual Sunday morning sleep-in time. Riley wants to watch cartoons in bed and settles happily in between Ned and me, channel surfing until she finds something she likes. While she's engrossed in her show, Edward looks over at me. His face is taut, anxious, but his eyes are warm.

"Bella," he says quietly. "I think I will go up to my grandparents' cabin for the fourth next weekend. Will you come with me?"

I look at him, at the openness in his eyes this morning, remembering how emotional he sounded at the thought of going to the cabin when Alice suggested it. I lift a hand up to cup the side of his face, rubbing back and forth across his cheek with my thumb. I smile at him and nod. When he nods back and reaches up to cover my hand with his, my breath hitches in response. We stare at each other intently for a moment, until Riley stands up on the bed and launches herself into my lap, knocking me off-balance so that we both crash into Edward's chest.

He grunts lowly from the force of the collision and then laughs as he wraps his arms around us. "Someone's got a lot of energy this morning," he observes. "Why don't we go for a walk and burn some of that off?"

Riley excitedly agrees and goes to get dressed. Edward's already dressed, so with a quick kiss and a wink, he leaves the bedroom so I can get dressed in peace. We spend the morning outside, playing in the backyard after our walk. Riley and I have a tea party, then she and Edward have a soccer game. Finally, we play hide and seek – Edward kisses me when he finds me hiding behind the hot tub.

As I drive home later that afternoon, I wonder if there's anything I can do to hide from the way Edward makes me feel – because Jasper was right. The lines are getting blurred and I'm starting to like him more than I should. By the time he rings my doorbell later that night, an unplanned but not really unexpected visit, I'm fairly sure the answer is no. So I do the only thing that makes sense to me…I open the door and let him in, determined to enjoy him for as long as I have him.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading - please review! **


	12. Fighting, Floating and a Favor

**Chapter 12: Fighting, Floating and a Favor **

**A/N: Finally...it took me forever to get this monstrosity proofed today. **

**Thanks to all who've favorited and alerted this story...muchas gracias!**

**Reviewers, you ladies rock! I love reading them all! Thanks a million.**

**Twilight belongs to someone else.**

**

* * *

**"Wow. Nice cabin, fancypants," I smirk as we pull up in front of the "cabin". It's not a cabin. Cabins are small and rustic. This is a big stone house.

"Well, thank you, Stella. My great-grandparents built it. Then my grandparents lived here. After they passed away, my mom couldn't bear to sell it. We spent summers here until I was eleven," he says, smiling slightly at whatever he's remembering. After a moment, his smile fades and he sighs deeply.

"Are we going in?" I ask, turning in my seat to look at him because he's made no move to get out of the car.

He nods slowly, looking out his window at the house. "Yes. I just… I haven't been here in a very long time. I didn't expect it to hit me quite this hard." I see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.

I lean across the console toward him to wrap my arms around his shoulders. "What can I do, Edward? How can I make this easier for you?"

"You're making it easier just by being here with me, Bella. Thank you. Let's go in," he says, extricating himself from my arms gently. I get out and stretch, reaching my arms above my head, then notice Edward smirking at me over the roof of his car.

"What?" I ask curiously, smirking back.

"You know what that does to me, Stella. The stretching, the back arching," he says, leaning on the arms he's resting on top of the car.

"Well, are you going to just stand there all day or are you going to do something about it?" I ask suggestively, hoping to distract him from the sadness he felt a few minutes ago.

"I was planning to give you the twenty-five cent tour first," he says, walking around to my side of the car. He slides one arm around my waist, pulling me up against him. I reach both hands toward the waistband of his shorts, hooking my index fingers through the side belt loops to hold his hips against mine.

"Pssh, guided tours are overrated. I prefer to explore on my own," I say, smiling up at him as he lowers his lips to mine.

"We have perishable food," he says against my lips.

"In a cooler. We'll be quick. I didn't get to see you last night," I respond. Crap. I probably shouldn't have brought that subject up. I went out with Jasper and got home too late to ask Ned over. He wasn't exactly mad, but he definitely wasn't happy. Right now, though, my comment seems to go unnoticed as he pulls away and turns toward house, pulling me along with him.

"Okay. I'll give you the tour later," he smiles as we walk up the steps of the long front porch. He unlocks the door, then turns to me. Before I realize his intention, he's got me slung over his shoulder ass up as he carries me inside fireman style. We're both laughing by the time he opens the door to a bedroom and plops me onto the bed, following me down.

As we stare into each other's eyes, our laughter dies down until we're silent. He raises one hand to push the hair out of my face and then skims the back of his fingers lightly across my cheekbone.

"You're stunning, Stella," he whispers.

"Right back atcha, Ned," I whisper back. Smiling, I slide my hands up the inside of his t-shirt, skimming my fingernails up his sides before scratching them lightly across his back. I reach for the hem of his shirt and push the material up until he strips it off.

He puts his hand back on my face, cupping my jaw lightly this time, and lowers his lips to mine. At first, it's a gentle meeting of our lips, but it quickly turns impassioned …frantic. I push at his shoulders until he rolls onto his back and I waste no time getting his shorts and my own off and then sinking down onto him.

"God, Bella," he exhales, gripping my hips tightly as I pull my shirt and bra off. I lean forward to kiss him, smiling when he pulls at my hips, urging me to move. Letting him guide me at the pace he wants, I lift and lower myself, quickly sitting up and resting my hands on his thighs behind me. When he reaches both hands to my chest and then slides one down to circle my clit, I know I won't last much longer.

"Edward," I pant. "Jesus, I'm so close."

"Come on, baby. Let me see you come for me," he growls, bucking his hips harder underneath me.

His body, his words, push me over the edge and I cry out, arching my back and stilling above him. He thrusts upward once more and then I feel him empty inside me, grunting my name and pulling on my arms until I collapse down onto him.

He wraps his arms around my shoulders and holds me firmly against his chest. I rest my head right over his heart, counting the beats, listening intently as he recovers and the rhythmic bumping slows to his normal rate. We both sigh at the same time and I'm smiling as I push myself up slightly so I can see his face. He shifts his arms from around me and glides his hands up and down my back several times. I kiss his lips and the spot over his heart before I push up to look at him again.

"I'm thirsty, Ned. Is it okay if I make myself at home in the kitchen?" I ask.

"Of course. I'll go start carrying our stuff in," he answers, pulling my head down to kiss me quickly once more before I climb off and start to pick my clothes up off the floor. "Wait, don't get dressed yet... please. Put my shirt on," he says as he pulls his boxers and shorts back on.

"Hmm, are you insinuating there will be a round two, Ned?" I ask, grabbing his shirt when he hands it to me and pulling it over my head.

"Hell, I hope so," he laughs. I turn and walk out of the room, laughing too.

I wander through the living room, able to see the kitchen just past it, and walk to the refrigerator. I find a bottled water in the refrigerator and open it quickly, taking a few sips as I wander back the way I came. I look around the family room, running my hand along the carved mantel, stopping to look at the family pictures displayed there. Some are black and white and are clearly from the 1940's or 50's. There are a few of Carlisle and a woman who must be Edward's mother, some alone and some with a very young Edward and Alice. I smile as I look at the cute, baby-faced boy with his mom. Another picture shows him a little older with front teeth that look too big for his face, standing next to his dad smiling and pointing to a big fish hanging from a fishing pole. Eventually, I wander over to the windows that look out onto the back of the property. I am surprised to see there's a good-sized pond out back with a small dock.

I hear Edward shuffling across the floor behind me, giving warning that he's approaching. "I forgot how much I love it here," he remarks as he reaches me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and looking out the window with me.

"It's beautiful, Ned," I reply. I hold the water bottle up to him, silently offering to share it. "What's out in the middle of the pond?" I ask as he's drinking.

"It's a lake, Stella – Masen Lake," he says. "It's a swim platform."

"Masen Lake?" I laugh.

"My grandfather started calling it that as a boy," he says, sounding amused too.

"Ned, what do I see on the dock?"

"It's a canoe, Stella. I would think you would recognize the general shape," he mocks.

"We are going to have to spend some time in that canoe," I say, pulling away from him and heading for the kitchen to put away the groceries we bought.

"Oh, that's right. I have a vague recollection of you saying there was something you wanted to do in a canoe. If I could just remember what it was," he teases.

"Steer. I wanted to steer the canoe," I call over my shoulder, chuckling when I hear him laugh loudly behind me.

* * *

After spending a couple of hours putting everything away and cleaning the cabin a little, Edward suggests we walk down to the dock. I put on a swimming suit and flip flops and we go out the back door. As we walk down the gravel path toward the lake, I see a small, fenced-in area off to the left.

"What's that?" I ask, without thinking. Before Edward answers, I realize what I'm looking at.

"Masen graveyard," he replies quietly.

"Is it okay if I look?" I ask.

He sighs, but sounds resigned when he answers. "Yeah. Might as well get it over with."

We veer off into the grass and Edward opens the iron gate, letting us into the area.

"Great-grandparents, grandparents, my brother, my mom," he says, pointing out the various markers. I look at his great-grandparents' and grandparents' graves first, reading names and dates, brushing the dirt off the markers and pulling a few weeds around the bases. I cautiously approach the baby's grave, aware of Edward's presence behind me, head bowed, hands in the front pockets of his shorts.

I crouch down in front of the baby's marker to read his name, Riley Carlisle Cullen. Tears spring to my eyes as I think how Alice honored the baby brother she never even got to hold by naming her own child after him. I'm overwhelmed with sadness as I think of how excited the whole family must have been to have a baby on the way and how quickly their hopes were dashed when he died just a few hours after being born. Blinking away my tears, I stand back up and move to the final grave, Edward's mother, Elizabeth Masen Cullen. As I kneel to brush away the dirt on her headstone, I gasp quietly when I realize that her date of death was exactly one month after Riley's. Edward has not spoken about his mother since the night he told me she passed away a long time ago, so I had no idea she died right after the baby ...when Edward was twelve. My eyes tear up again at the thought of how horrible it must have been for the rest of the family to lose both of them in such a short time.

"Oh my God, Edward. I had no idea your mom passed away so soon after the baby," I say, looking back and up at him and wiping away the tears that have escaped. He nods stiffly, his eyes focused on the ground, his face stone-like, set in an expressionless mask. "What happened to her?" I ask hoarsely.

He reaches one hand up to rub roughly across his face before he answers me. When he speaks, his velvet voice is strained, hollow. "She killed herself."

I will myself not to break down into sobs, although I want to. "I'm so sorry," I whisper, turning back to the grave and wiping at my cheeks as the tears continue to stream down.

"It was a long time ago, Bella," he replies, his voice transformed again, this time into cold steel. "I've come to terms with it. She was so distraught after Riley died ...and I guess Alice and I weren't enough to make her want to stick around."

Gasping, I stand and turn to look disbelievingly at Edward. "You can't mean that – you can't really think that. Edward, she must have – she couldn't have known what she was doing."

He shrugs, finally dragging his eyes up from the dirt to meet mine. "It doesn't matter if she knew what she was doing or not. The end result is the same."

"Oh, baby," I say, taking the few steps over to where he's standing and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. This is not the time for dissecting what Elizabeth did. It's the time for comforting my friend, even though he stands stiffly in my arms, letting me hug him, but not hugging back. I raise up on my tiptoes, sliding one hand into his hair and gripping the back of his shirt with the other. Several minutes later, he finally wraps his arms around me, too. He exhales in a burst of air, as if he'd been holding his breath, and bends down to me, burying his head against my shoulder. He doesn't cry out loud, but his breaths come more rapidly and he sniffs several times.

"It still hurts," he whispers. I turn my face toward him and press kisses along the side of his face and neck where I can reach him. I know there are no words to say to him that will make him feel better. It would be insulting of me to try and equate the sadness I felt when my grandmother died a few years ago to his grief over losing his baby brother and his mother when he was a child. All I can do is try to help him through the pain.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could make it better," I whisper back.

He nods but doesn't speak again. We stand clinging to each other in silence for a few more minutes, then he starts to stand back up, loosening his hold on me.

"Shit. This is why I don't come here much. It's too fucking hard." He pulls away from my embrace to shove his hands back in his pockets and turn to face their graves again. I caught a glimpse of his face before he turned away from me – his eyes were watery and red-rimmed.

"Do you want to be alone for a minute?" I ask quietly, trying to imagine what I would want in his position. He nods jerkily, but doesn't look at me. "Okay. I'll be at the dock." I want to touch him again before I go, but I don't. Instead, I turn and walk away, allowing him space to be alone with his thoughts for a while.

* * *

Trying to get my own emotions back under control, I walk down to the dock, kicking my flip flops off as I reach it, liking the feel of the smooth, time-worn wood under my feet. It's warm from the heat of the sun and as I reach the end of the dock, I stand still for a moment, absorbing the sunshine, looking out at the rippling water of the lake. I chuckle lightly thinking that it really is a pond, but if Edward says it's a lake, then it's a lake.

I decide to sit down and test the water, gingerly putting my toes in, then sinking my entire feet after I feel how relatively warm it is. I swing my feet back and forth through the water, thinking about Elizabeth. How could she have chosen to leave her husband and two children behind? Her pain must have been so immense for her to make that choice, but I'm a little angry at her, too. Her choice permanently damaged her family, both individually and as a whole.

I also feel immensely sorry for her – for giving up, for missing out on what would have been a wonderful life with the two living children she had. Mostly, though, I just feel sad. Sad that she chose to end her life and transfer her pain to others; sad that her family did not survive intact; sad that Edward lost his mother.

My mother is no mother of the year, and Lord knows she wasn't very helpful when everything happened with Jake, but at least I still have her. Edward is more like an orphan, no mother and choosing not to spend much time with Carlisle except when he can't get out of it. I don't really understand that, since I found Carlisle to be warm and witty when I met him two weeks ago.

Sighing loudly, I lower my sunglasses from their perch on the top of my head and lie back, trying to concentrate on something else for a bit. I focus on the warmth of the sun where it touches my face, my arms, the top of my legs. Soon, I find myself smiling, thinking of Riley and the song she was singing last weekend about sunshine.

I feel the vibrations on the dock as Edward walks along it to the end, then can tell he's standing right over me by the shadow that takes over behind my eyelids.

I push my sunglasses back up on top of my head to look up at him, still smiling. "Hey," I say.

"Hi," he says curtly, moving to sit down next to me on the end of the dock. I prop my upper body on my elbows and stare at his back. He puts his feet in the lake and hunches his shoulders forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, looking down into the water. I push myself up and reach my hand over to rub his back, hoping to soothe him.

"So now that you know all my deep, dark secrets – how fucked up my family is – are you going to call our agreement off? Now that you've seen me cry like a baby about stuff that happened almost twenty years ago?" he asks, his gaze still fixed on the water below.

"Are you serious?" I ask, my heart dropping into my stomach. I look at his profile as he nods, but he doesn't turn to look at me. "I'm not even sure how to take that question, Edward. Is that really what you think of me?"

He lifts his gaze from the water, but he looks off in the distance away from me. He doesn't answer me at all. I let my arm drop from his back, shocked that he would speak this way to me.

"You think that I'm so shallow that seeing you upset, finding out your family's not perfect, would make me stop being your friend? That's fucking insulting!" I say strongly. He shrugs, like it doesn't matter to him one way or the other if he hurt me. I wait for a minute, but he doesn't say anything else, so I finally stand up.

"Here's a newsflash, asshole. Every family has problems. Everyone has emotions and gets upset. I'm not perfect and neither is my family, but I would never think you would judge me about those things. So I guess maybe I misjudged our friendship …or misjudged you," I spit, turning around to walk away. I'm halfway back up the dock before I hear him calling me.

"Bella, wait! I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," he yells from behind me. I feel the dock shake as he starts walking behind me and quicken my steps, shoving my feet into my flip flops when I reach the shore. I can tell he's gaining on me, so I start running up the gravel path back to the house. "Bella!" he calls again.

"Stop following me!" I yell, my voice cracking. Oh, shit. I didn't realize how close I was to tears, but now they're collecting in my eyes, blinding me. I struggle to see where I'm going as I run on the shifty gravel and suddenly feel my feet slide out from under me. Knowing I'm going to fall, I reach my hands forward, bracing for impact. It hurts worse than I expect when I hit the ground, causing me to cry out. My palms and knees take most of the blow, but I feel stinging on my shins and the tops of my feet, too. I hear the crunch of quick footsteps in the gravel behind me and push myself back to my feet to walk the rest of the way to the house.

"Bella, wait. Please just stop," he calls. I do because I can't be much more humiliated than I am right now. I might as well face him and get it over with. "Are you okay?" he asks more quietly from just a couple of feet behind me.

I look down at my palms. They're skinned and have gravel imbedded in them. I feel a trickle of blood running down one leg. I shake my head no, but don't verbally answer him. He scoops me up from behind, swinging my legs over one arm and wrapping the other around my back.

"Jesus, Stella, look at you. Why were you running away from me?" he asks.

"Did you miss the part where I called you asshole?" I blurt out between gaspy breaths, the tears running unchecked down my face now.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I hurt you, Stella. I'll take care of you," he whispers against the side of my head.

"I want to go home," I say, my breath hitching uncontrollably as I say it.

"Okay, baby. Let's get you cleaned up first, yeah?" he says. I don't answer. When we get to the door, he opens it and turns sideways to carry me inside and put me down carefully on the couch. "I'll be right back."

He returns a minute later with wet washcloths, dry towels, antibiotic ointment and band-aids. I try to take the washcloths from him, but he holds firm, telling me he wants to do it. I lie back against the arm of the couch, watching him. He's clearly still upset, too, but his hands are inordinately gentle, dabbing at the skinned parts, carefully wiping the blood from my leg. He spends a lot of time on my palms, using his fingertips to brush away the imbedded gravel, whispering how sorry he is over and over.

I finally manage to get my tears under control, and sit up to look at the damage to my legs. My knees are skinned, but aren't too gross. The spots on my shins and the tops of my feet are really just scratches. My palms are red, but otherwise fine. Edward painstakingly puts ointment on all the scrapes and band-aids on my knees. He disappears to put everything away and comes back with a bottle of water and some ibuprofen for me.

"Thanks," I say, taking them, but not looking up at his face.

"Bella, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asks, sitting down on the coffee table in front of me. I nod. "Will you look at me?"

Reluctantly, I raise my eyes to his.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said those things to you. I didn't mean them, but that doesn't excuse it. I was feeling vulnerable ...and angry ...and I lashed out at you," he says sincerely, quietly, looking in my eyes the entire time.

"You hurt me. It fucking sucks that you think of me that way, Edward. I thought... we were friends," I reply, fighting back tears again.

"We are, Bella. I don't think of you that way. God knows, if one of us is shallow, it's me, not you. I told you the night we met – I've never met anyone like you. You're so giving, so trusting, so compassionate. I said shitty things, but I... please ...you have to know that I have so much respect and admiration for you," his green eyes bore into mine, urging me to believe him. When he continues, his velvet voice is full of emotion. "Please accept my apology. What I did was mean on its own, but even more so because of how incredible you were to me in the graveyard earlier."

I look down at my lap and nod. We sit in silence for several minutes.

"This is why I don't come here. It's too hard, it brings back too many memories – good and bad," he muses, repeating the sentiment from earlier in the graveyard.

"You know, it won't get better until you deal with it. All you're doing now is pushing it away," I say flatly. "The pain. The grief. They'll control you, Edward, until you let yourself really feel it, make peace with it." I push away the thought that I am basically regurgitating the speech Jasper's been giving me for the last year and a half. I realize it's hypocritical of me, but I push that thought away for now, too.

"I know you're right. It's tough though," he says, sniffling again. I nod in agreement and start to get up. "Where are you going?"

"To get my stuff. You said you'd take me home," I say, raising my eyes to his.

He sighs, nodding at me. "And I will if you still want to go. But, Bella, I don't want you to go. I want you to stay here with me," he pleads, moving from his seat on the table to kneel in front of me. He raises one hand to my cheek, stroking my cheekbone softly with his thumb.

"Please? Please stay. Let me make this up to you. I'll even cook dinner," he says.

"Um, Edward, no offense, but your cooking is not an enticement," I say, leaning back against the couch again.

He laughs lightly. "True. But we have one of those frozen pasta things that goes in the oven. Surely even I can't screw that up. You can supervise," he says. "Please, Bella. Please." He leans toward me and kisses my lips, my forehead, both cheeks.

"You're not going to say shitty things to me again?" I ask.

"You have my word."

I nod.

"Thank you," he breathes. He kisses the top of my head and pulls me into a hug before he gets up and goes into the kitchen.

After we eat, Edward digs out some old board games and we spend the evening playing Monopoly and checkers. He tries to teach me chess, but I'm too sleepy by that point. Edward insists on carrying me up to bed even though I tell him my knees don't hurt.

In the bathroom, I wash my tear and dirt-stained face, embarrassed that I looked this way all evening and Edward never said anything. I put on my pajamas and walk back to the bedroom where Edward's already under the covers. He smiles at me, holding the covers up while I slide in and then turning off the light. He didn't shut the blinds in here and it's a full moon outside so the room is still fairly bright. We both lie on our sides facing each other, looking at each other, but not touching.

"Stel?" he asks quietly.

"Yes, Ned?" I ask, smiling part way at him.

"Do you forgive me? For being an asshole earlier?"

"Yes, Ned," I answer. He reaches for my hand and holds it in between us.

"How is it so easy for you to forgive? To pretend I didn't royally fuck up?"

I lift one shoulder before I answer him. "Ned, everybody says things, does things, they don't mean when they're upset – it's a defense mechanism I employ regularly. But you said you were sorry and I believe you."

"I am really sorry," he says, squeezing my hand.

"I know," I answer, then pause before I finish my thought. "You don't have to defend yourself against me, you know. I'm not going to judge you or ever use things you say to me against you."

He nods, still looking at me, and pulls our hands up to his lips, kissing lightly across my fingers.

"Do you want to talk about it? Talk about your mom?" I ask gently.

"I'm not sure what there is to say. I miss her presence all the time, but I don't feel like I really knew her. And my dad… he's never talked about her too much," he says. His voice has dropped to a hoarse whisper, but he continues to keep his eyes locked on mine.

"Edward, I'm so sorry," I say, scooting closer to him and wrapping my arms around his neck.

He allows me to pull his head down and cradle him against my chest. I kiss the top of his head as he sighs heavily and wraps an arm around my waist.

"Can we just stay like this tonight, Stel?" he whispers.

"Absolutely, Ned," I answer, willing my voice to stay even and not betray the emotion choking my throat. I kiss the top of his head again.

Neither of us says anything else, but I lie awake for a long time before I finally fall asleep, still clinging to Edward and letting him cling to me.

* * *

"Stella…Stella," I hear his voice calling me from far away. Or maybe he's close up and I'm far away. I'm dreaming that I'm swimming underwater in the pond. I feel myself float to the surface and I pop my eyes open quickly to see those damn hypnotic green eyes staring right back at me.

"Hey," he says, smiling softly at me. I grunt back at him and close my eyes again. I feel his fingers glide across my cheek and into my hair. His lips press briefly against my forehead. I force my eyes open again and blink a few times.

"Time?" I ask, still groggy.

"A little after nine," he replies. I sigh. Damn. He's already let me sleep later than I'm supposed to on Saturday.

"Nap later?" I ask then yawn.

"Definitely," he chuckles. I flop onto my back. He groans quietly – he knows what comes next and I know what it does to him. Grinning, I stretch my arms above my head and arch my back. I stretch an extra long time this morning.

"Stella," he says sternly, "You're doing it again."

I collapse back to the bed with a laugh. "Sorry, Ned." I turn onto my side again to face him, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, but he turns his head and meets my lips with his. He reaches for my waist with one arm and pulls me to him, sliding one leg between mine and pushing his thigh all the way up against me. My body reacts to his immediately and I moan as he pulls me up his leg slowly, raising both of my hands to fist in his hair.

"I need to ask you for a favor," he says against my neck.

"Okay, I'll do it, whatever it is," I answer, grabbing his hand and trying to pull it up to my chest. I'm kidding, kind of. But I'll probably do it unless it's something unreasonable.

"Stop. You need to know what you're agreeing to. It's not covered under our current agreement," he says, pulling away slightly. "I shouldn't even be asking you this while we're in bed." He mutters something under his breath, too, but I don't catch it.

"All right, Edward. What do you need?" I ask, catching my breath.

"I need a date. I have to go to a weekend technology conference in San Diego next month. I want you to come," he says, looking at me nervously.

"You want me to come as your pretend girlfriend? Is that what I'm hearing?"

"Yes. Last year at this conference I spent the weekend trying to avoid the advances of Tanya Denali. I thought if you came with me, maybe she'd leave me alone this year," he grins. I know that name, but I can't place it.

"Who?"

"Tanya Denali. She's the president of a software company in California." I suddenly remember. She runs Omni Software – and used to be one of Jasper's clients. He's complained about her cougar ways before, too. I think his story involved a leopard print bra and stilettos. He lost the account after he refused to sleep with her… well, she said her switch to one of our biggest competitors was unrelated to the refusal, but Jas didn't believe her.

"It's okay. You don't have to go," he says, looking down. "I shouldn't have asked. It's above and beyond what we agreed on."

"Huh? You didn't even give me a chance to answer, Ned," I say in an exasperated tone.

"Well, you're frowning over there, so I figured you were trying to think of a way to tell me no," he says.

"No, I'm frowning because I was trying to figure out how I knew her name. Omni used to be one of McCarty and Whitlock's clients, but they're not now, so there's no potential for advertising disaster if she gets pissed at me. As long as I don't have any other plans that weekend, I'll go," I say.

"Yeah?" he asks, his eyes lighting up.

"Yeah," I confirm, rolling to my back and reaching over to the nightstand to grab my phone. I open my calendar and ask him the dates, which of course he knows off the top of his head. It's a little over a month away. "Free as a bird that weekend, Ned."

"Can you take the Friday off? I really need to fly in Thursday night and I thought we could fly together," he says, scooting to lie right next to me on his side, propping his head on his bent arm. I nod, marking the dates off on my calendar before setting my phone back down. "Thank you. Are you sure you don't mind? I mean, pretending that we're a couple?"

"No worries, Ned. Jasper and I used to do it all the time," I say, smiling up at him.

His face settles into a scowl. I roll my eyes. "Don't roll your eyes. I think that guy has feelings for you," he grumbles.

"He does. He has best fucking friend feelings for me, Ned. Don't continue to push this," I warn, not mad yet, but it's coming if he doesn't rein in the Jasper complaints.

"Why did you two pretend to be a couple?" he asks, backing off the scowl somewhat.

"To deter overeager bar patrons of the opposite sex, to make a few of his old girlfriends jealous, stuff like that. And I went to a bunch of weddings with him in Texas a few years ago when most of his high school buddies got married. He didn't want to go alone and I was happy to do it," I say with a shrug.

"But you guys didn't….." he says, the question clear by his tone.

"Jesus, Edward, this better be the last fucking time I have to answer this shit. I told you, I have never slept with Jasper. He's my best friend, but that's it," I say tersely.

"But if you pretended to be his girlfriend…didn't he have his hands and lips all over you?" he asks. Oh my God… he's even kind of pouting, like lip out, sad eyes pouting.

"Yeah. So? He does that shit all the time anyway," I retort, rubbing my hand up and down Edward's chest. "The only difference was that I didn't elbow him in the gut when he grabbed my ass if we were at a wedding or something." I laugh lightly expecting Edward to laugh, too. But he doesn't.

His eyes are dark and he's studying my face intently. Finally, he swallows and lowers his lips to mine, kissing me quickly and then burying his head in my shoulder, mumbling an apology. We lay cuddled up for several minutes, then Edward offers to get up and toast bagels for us. I quirk one eyebrow at him.

"Really? You think I can't even do that right? I'm getting better. I didn't burn anything last night," he says defensively.

I laugh at his petulant tone and pat his face patronizingly. "Sure, Ned. Okay, fine. I want to shower quickly anyway. What are we doing today?"

"Would you like to explore the town a little bit? There's not much to do there, but if you want to take a look around, we can," he says.

"Yeah, that sounds good. Give me twenty and I'll be ready," I say, disentangling our body parts and sliding off the bed.

* * *

Edward takes me to the library first, saying they have a whole section on the history of Roslyn, the small town where we are. We look around the museum-like area of the library, reading the captions under pictures, pointing things out to each other. Ned keeps a hand on me at all times, either on my lower back or shoulder. Eventually I pull away to look at an exhibit about the town's coal mine. He follows, stopping beside me to read the plaque and hooking his pinky finger around mine.

"Can I help you folks with anything?" a voice asks from behind us, startling me. I jump, then giggle as Edward looks at me with concern until I shake my head, indicating I'm okay. Then we both turn around to look at the short, portly lady standing behind us.

"We're just looking around a bit," Edward says.

"Okay. I'm Shelley Cope, the head librarian here. Please let me know if you need anything. You two new in town or just visiting us?" she asks pleasantly.

"Just visiting. My family has a cabin a few miles outside of town and we're here from Seattle for the holiday weekend," he explains, giving her more information than he usually shares with strangers.

"Hmmm, I know most families around here. You don't look familiar. What did you say your name was again?" she asks, digging for information. I stifle another giggle and look up to see how Ned will handle the Nosy Nellie.

"I'm Edward Cullen. My grandfather was Edward M-," he says, surprising me with his candor.

"Masen! Yes, of course. You have those Masen eyes. I went to school with your mother. Lizzie and I were great friends from first grade all the way through high school," she enthuses.

"Really?" Edward asks, sounding excited, too. "Can you – would you mind – could I ask you a few questions? I was 12 when she…died…and I don't know much about her childhood."

"Of course, Edward. Why don't you come into my office for a few minutes?" she asks, looking at him with a genuine smile. "Your friend is welcome, too."

"I'm sorry. This is my friend Bella Swan," he says. Shelley and I shake hands and I tell them to go ahead. After they take off for her office, I wander around the exhibit a little longer. Finally, I make my way out to the bookshelves and look through the local interest section, eventually thumbing through a couple of books about the area.

"Sneaking up on you," Edward whispers from behind me right before he slides his arms around my waist from the back. He kisses the top of my head as he presses himself against my back. "Sorry. I didn't intend to spend so long in there."

I turn around in his arms so I can look at his face, afraid he will be tense and upset like last night. I couldn't have been more wrong. He looks happy….relaxed.

"I told you to take your time. So you had a nice talk with her?" I ask quietly.

"Bella, I can't adequately describe it. It was so nice to hear about her from a friend…to hear what she was like as a girl, then as a young woman," he whispers, smiling down at me.

I beam back at him and then hug him tightly. "That's so great, Edward!"

"Come on. Shelley told me the cafe up the street is pretty good and I'm starving," he says quietly, bending down to kiss my lips.

We head up the street, walking slowly, holding pinkies again. I glance in the windows of the shops we pass: a little hardware store, a pharmacy, an insurance office. It's nice to find a slice of America where Wal-Mart hasn't invaded. After we're seated at the cafe and have ordered, Edward tells me about his mom, talking nonstop for almost twenty minutes. It's the most I've heard him talk about any one subject and I'm captivated by his emotion-laden voice. I listen intently, laughing with him as he relays funny stories. When our food arrives, I finally ask the question I'm dying to know the answer to, even though I'm afraid it will ruin his mood.

"You said your dad doesn't talk about your mom. Why do you think that is?" I ask gently.

He shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe it hurts too much. Honestly, I haven't spoken much to my dad since Alice got pregnant with Riley. I don't know if he talks about her more now or not. I only see him when it's unavoidable."

I nod. "Have you thought about trying to repair that relationship?" I ask.

"Not a lot," he says, looking at me. "Why? Do you think I should?"

"That's up to you, Edward. I'll just say that when I met your dad, I saw a sadness in his eyes every time he talked about you or to you. It might be worth a shot," I say. Then I smile over at him. "But tell me again what Shelley said about your mom and the lake."

He launches into the story of young girls, young boys, and young love. By the time we leave the cafe, my stomach hurts from eating so much and laughing so much. I feel slightly guilty for thinking of Elizabeth the way I did last night… for blaming her. The woman that Edward has described to me today, both through Shelley's memories and his own, sounds like a wonderful person. I can't imagine how deep her grief and depression must have been for her to choose to end her life. I decide that I will pay another visit to her grave without Edward before we go back to Seattle tomorrow.

We walk slowly back in the direction of the library, on the other side of the street this time. Edward insists on going in one of the gift shops and buying us goofy, matching key chains.

"Bear or moose?" he asks, holding up one of each. I'm laughing so hard I can't even answer him and simply shake my head. He grabs two of each and heads for the checkout counter.

I'm still having fits of giggles as we exit the store. "Try to act your age, Stella," he chides teasingly. He hits the car remote to unlock the doors and opens the passenger side door for me.

"I can't help it. I'm having such a good time today. Ned, thanks for bringing me up here," I say sincerely, the giggles under control momentarily.

"Thanks for coming with me," he says, bending down to kiss me. Just as our lips are about to touch, he jerks away. "Oh my God! I almost forgot! Shelley said we have to go have a beer at The Brick. Come on." He throws the bag with the key chains on the seat and shuts the door, relocking it. Grabbing my hand, he starts off at a brisk pace farther down the street.

"Whoa, Ned. Short person attached to your arm here," I complain, making him laugh and slow down a little bit. "What the hell is The Brick?"

"Oldest continuously operated tavern in Washington state. Opened in…I can't remember. 1889 or something," he says. "It's an institution."

We arrive and he opens the door for me. We find a booth and order beers.

"Maybe we should stay here all afternoon and get smashed," I say after I take my first sip.

"I don't think there are cabs in Roslyn," he replies laughing. "If you want to get smashed back at the cabin, we can."

"Maybe not smashed, but wine with dinner?" I ask.

"Sure. Shelley also said the city fireworks are tonight and they are set off from the field just east of the cabin, so we should be able to see them from the dock," he says.

Smiling, I sip my beer, thinking that it will be romantic to watch fireworks from the dock with Ned and a bottle of wine. Screech! Oh crap, what was that? Romantic? Back up, Bella. You and Ned are not romantic. Just because you are friends and you regularly screw each other…. doesn't mean you are ….oh no, oh no.

"Bella? Are you okay?" Ned asks, reaching across the table for my hand. No, Ned, I am not okay. I am panicking. My heart is racing and my breathing is shallow. Fuck! What is wrong with me? I take a deep breath and another sip of beer. If I can't make sense of my thoughts, I can at least drown them in alcohol.

"I'm okay, Ned. I'll be right back," I say, sliding out of the booth and heading to the back hallway where the bathrooms are. I am able to calm down a little after a couple of minutes …until I open the door to the hallway and Ned is standing right outside.

He smiles crookedly at me. "You look better. Are you sure you're okay? You're not feeling sick?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm not sick," I say, forcing myself to smile up at him. He narrows his eyes and looks at me curiously for a moment before nodding.

"Ready to go?" he asks and I nod. I put conscious thought into walking, being careful not to bump into him. He reaches a hand up to rest on my shoulder. A friendly gesture, no more. The same way Jasper and Emmett touch me when we walk places together.

I'm quiet the whole drive back to the cabin, prompting Ned to ask if I'd like to nap when we get back. I say yes and he suggests I lie in the hammock outside since it's such a nice day. After I agree, he leads me out to the hammock where it's strung between two trees.

"It's in the same place as when we were kids, but Alice and my dad brought this hammock new this year. I don't want you to think I'm trusting some ancient rope contraption with your spectacular ass," he laughs. He spreads a blanket out and holds the hammock steady as I climb in. "Have a good sleep, Stella." He pushes the hammock to rock it gently after kissing my forehead. I gladly escape my overtaxed brain and fall into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

I wake up to Ned's mouth on my neck. "Mmm, well hello, Ned," I say. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"Almost three hours. I thought maybe we should make dinner, open a bottle of wine," he says.

"You mean I should make dinner and you should open some wine," I say, sighing as he continues kissing my neck.

"Precisely," he says, chuckling. "I'll help you though."

"All right. Help me up?" I ask. He helps me stand and we walk into the cabin where I cook pasta primavera while he entertains me with stories of his childhood summers. He disappears for a few minutes then returns with an old photo album. I stop what I'm doing to sit at the table with him and look through it, realizing that if he needs to share this with me, it's more important than dinner. He points out his grandparents, his mom and dad, him and Alice. There are so many pictures of little Edward in here. I find myself teary-eyed several times looking at the pictures of him with his mom. She clearly adored him – it's evident in her eyes in every single picture.

When we're done looking, I stand to go finish dinner, but turn back to him for a minute. I step behind him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, noting that he's turned the pages back to the beginning and is starting all over.

"Thank you for sharing this with me, Edward. It means so much to me," I say sincerely, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

"Bella, you've helped me so much by being here this weekend," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you." He pulls my hands to his mouth and kisses each palm. I rest my head against his for a moment and then pull away to finish dinner, leaving him alone for a few minutes with his memories.

* * *

By the time we're done eating dinner and cleaning up, dusk is quickly heading into darkness. Ned opens another bottle of wine and we wander slowly down to the dock. He uses a flashlight to illuminate the path for me and I decide to push all worries aside for tonight... including the worry that I constantly push my worries regarding Ned aside.

We sit down on the end of the dock with our feet in the lake to wait for the fireworks to start. As we wait, we sip our wine and Edward tells me about swimming in the lake after dark as a kid and how his dad would sneak up on him underwater trying to scare him. We laugh and I swing my feet from side to side in the water, bumping his ankle with mine again and again. He usually bumps back. After the wine is finished, I lie down on my back and look up at the sky. It's cloudy tonight, so I can't see a lot of stars, but the dim light of the moon glows intermittently as the clouds blow by.

"It's so peaceful up here, Ned. I've never been anywhere else so quiet," I whisper, hesitant to disturb the air by talking.

"Yeah, it is," he replies, just as quietly. "We could paddle out to the dock if you want."

Oh, I've been waiting for him to get me in that canoe. I feel the grin spread across my face as he turns to look down at me.

"Sounds good," I reply, sitting up and letting him pull me to my feet. He steadies the canoe as I get in and gets in behind me. I notice that the middle seat is missing... there are only front and back seats. And there are folded blankets in the middle, too. Ned is a planner.

We paddle out without speaking. I love listening to the sound of the water lapping against the paddles and against the side of the canoe.

As we near the middle of the lake, I hear Edward moving behind me, but don't turn around.

"Right behind you, Stel," he whispers right before his arms encircle me from behind. He's on his knees behind me and he places several open-mouth kisses against my shoulder. He squeezes me with his arms for a moment before sliding his hands up the front of my tank top. He cups my breasts with his hands, kneading gently as he moves his mouth to my other shoulder. I pull my paddle inside the canoe so I don't lose it and then cover his hands with mine. He continues caressing me for a moment and then moves his hands to the hem of my top, pulling it off me quickly, uncovering my white lacy bra. His hands immediately return to my breasts as he kisses and nips all across my upper back with his mouth.

"Ned," I breathe, desperate for more, desperate to touch him, too.

"I'm right here, baby," he murmurs against my back. He shifts his hands to my back, unhooking my bra quickly and pulling it from me. With a feather light touch, he runs his fingers across my back, following behind with his mouth, then finally moving his hands back to the front to capture my bare breasts with his hands. He moans and I whimper as he captures my nipples between his thumbs and index fingers and pulls lightly. He presses his chest against my back, surprising me when I feel his bare skin meld with mine in the calm night air. He continues pressing his open mouth against my shoulders, the nape of my neck.

"I need... I need to touch you," I gasp, grabbing his forearms with my hands. He slides one hand down my abs to the waistband of my shorts, quickly undoing the button and sliding down the zipper. He slips his hand inside, heading straight for my clit. "Edward," I groan, spreading my legs apart to give him better access.

"I'm here, Stel. Just let me... let me," he whispers against my back.

He slowly circles my clit with his finger, waiting until I start to move my hips against his hand to slide his finger inside me. He pumps his finger in and out several times before adding a second finger. Once my breaths become gaspy and I start to lean backwards against his chest, he adds his thumb, using it to make quick circles on my clit, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

"Ned… oh God …please …Edward," I cry out, hearing the way my voice carries across the water and comes back to me.

"Jesus, Bella," Edward whispers against the top of my shoulder as I lean back and rest against his chest, his fingers still buried deeply inside of me. He kisses along my shoulder and up my neck as he pulls his fingers out of me, purposely grazing them along my clit and chuckling against my back when I shudder from the contact.

Ned slides his arm under my knees and lifts me backwards over the seat. He lays me down on the blanket he's spread out and I immediately dig one hand into his hair and one into his bicep and pull him down to kiss me. I scoot down a bit so I can kiss his neck and the top of his chest while I unbutton his shorts. He helps as I push his shorts and boxer briefs off. I reach for him immediately, smiling against his chest at his sharp inhale as I begin stroking him.

I jump as the first firework pops and lights up the sky. Both of us stop and look up, then look at each other. Before the next one can go off, he strips my shorts from me and pushes me onto my side, facing the fireworks… facing away from him. He settles behind me, lifting my top leg up and back over his hip, then positioning himself against me and sliding in smoothly. He pumps into me steadily as we watch the fireworks, the motion of our bodies moving the canoe, causing it to rock from side to side gently.

"Fuck, Bella…you're so fucking perfect," he grunts in my ear.

"Edward, I can't…," I mutter, panting and arching my back as the orgasm hits me.

"Goddamn, baby. You feel fucking great," he exclaims as he explodes inside me, using his top arm to hug me tightly. I wind both of my arms around his, lying still as the canoe continues to slowly rock for a minute while fireworks light up the sky above.

Once the fireworks end, I roll over to face Edward. He's smiling as he leans down to kiss me, sucking gently on my lower lip.

"Can you swim, Stel?" he murmurs against my lips. I nod, unwilling to stop kissing him long enough to answer. "Wanna skinny dip?"

This time I do pull back slightly to smile at him. "Ned," I chastise teasingly, "what would Grandpa Masen think of us skinny dipping in his lake?"

"Are you kidding? As soon as he got a look at you, he'd get a gleam in his eye and tell me to get you naked any way I could," he insists. Laughing, I kiss him again, then stand up and jump over the side. He follows right after and we swim and splash each other for a while before climbing onto the swim dock, Edward towing the canoe behind him and tying it to the ladder so we don't have to swim all the way back to shore. We lay out one of the blankets and lie down on our backs to look up at the sky, then I roll to my side to look at him.

"Thank you for sharing this weekend with me, Ned," I say quietly, resting a hand on his chest.

"I haven't been this relaxed up here since I was eleven, Stel. Thanks for helping me see that I could still love this place," he responds, turning toward me to kiss me. He reaches one hand up to cup my face and smiles against my lips as he speaks again. "How would you feel about sex on a floating dock?"

I chuckle into his mouth as I answer. "I would feel grateful that I don't get seasick," I tease, rolling to my back and pulling him on top of me.

* * *

Sunday afternoon while Edward's loading our bags into his car, I pick up the six small wildflower bouquets I made earlier in the day and walk out the back door toward the graveyard. I carefully place bouquets on each of the grandparents and great-grandparents graves and then sit down on the ground in between Riley's and Elizabeth's.

As I place the bouquets on each of their graves, I struggle to hold back my tears.

"I hope you both rest in peace," I whisper. "I hope Edward can find some peace now, too."

Sniffling and wiping my eyes, I stand up and turn around, surprised when Edward is standing a few feet behind me, teary-eyed, too. He holds one arm out toward me and I walk directly into his arms, letting him hug me tightly and lift me off the ground. When he sets me down a few minutes later, kissing me gently before pulling me to his side and turning to face their graves, he only asks me one question.

"Do you think they know how much I love them?" he whispers.

I squeeze him with both arms as I answer. "Yes, Edward. I think they know."

* * *

**Thanks for reading...please review!**


	13. What Do You Call a Waffle On a Beach?

**A/N: Happy New Year's Eve! If you're going out tonight, have fun and be safe.**

**This is half of the chapter. It was too long. I'll edit the second half and post it Sunday.**

**Thanks for reading...please review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. I also didn't get the only damn thing I asked for for Christmas...but I'm not bitter. ;)**

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Chapter 13: What Do You Call a Waffle On a Beach?

As I'm driving up the 5, I smile and let my mind wander back over the last few weeks. It's been six weeks since the weekend Edward and I spent at the cabin in Roslyn… six weeks of work during the day and Edward at night. We've been together every night except for the few when he was out of town or when I was out late with Jasper and Emmett.

We see Alice and Riley a lot. Two days ago, Alice had us and Carlisle over for dinner. Edward was still lukewarm with his dad, but not as distant as he was at Riley's birthday party. When Alice and I were inside cleaning up dinner dishes, I glanced outside through the window over her sink and saw Edward laugh at something Carlisle said. As I watched them look at each other and smile, I smiled too, barely noticing that Alice had come to stand beside me until I heard her voice.

"He's been talking to me about them… about our mom and the baby," she said softly, linking her arm through mine with the same effortless affection Riley regularly heaps on me. I really like Alice and I was surprised when Edward told me that she doesn't have many friends; she's so easy to talk to. But when your college all-nighters involve a baby instead of a frat party, maybe you don't meet many other people your age. Then again, I don't have a lot of friends either, and I went to plenty of parties in college. Maybe it says more about our personalities than about our friend-making opportunities.

"Has he?" I asked as I turned to look at her. I was glad to hear he's talking to someone about them; his pain was palpable on the day we left the cabin. During the drive home that day, I told him that I would listen anytime he wanted to talk, but that I wouldn't push him. I was afraid if I said any more, he'd completely shut down. Since he hasn't mentioned them to me since, I assumed he'd gone back to ignoring his feelings.

She looked back at me and nodded. "Yes," she answered. I nodded back, letting her know that I understood her desire for me to know as well as her unwillingness to divulge what he said. The weighty moment was broken up by Riley, who came racing inside, blonde curls bouncing behind her, to announce that Pops said she could have a puppy. Alice went marching straight outside to have a word with Pops then, leaving me giggling alone in the kitchen.

I sigh. Remembering Riley's blonde curls makes me think of someone else's, even though his are a darker blond. Jasper. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel and sigh again. Jasper.

Jasper and I are getting back on track, despite his complaints that we don't spend much time together anymore. At my insistence, he, Emmett and I have resumed our once-weekly dinners. Jas generally uses the opportunity to give me grief about the way I'm handling my friendship with Edward. Every week he asks me to bring Edward to dinner, and every week I steadfastly refuse. Frankly, I don't believe Jas when he says he would accept my choices if he could just meet Edward. I'm afraid it would turn into a lecture and I don't want to upset the apple cart, so to speak. I'm very satisfied with the arrangement Edward and I have, and he seems to be, too.

To my surprise, Emmett usually sticks up for me when Jas starts in, which pisses Jas off and makes me love Emmett even more. I think Emmett really likes Edward, and even though he's told me that he doesn't understand what the hell Edward and I are doing, he's not fighting me about it. But I feel like Jasper and I are getting closer and closer to a showdown. I can never quite get rid of the nervous feeling in my stomach when I'm around Jas now, knowing that someday soon there's going to be a blowup. Although I'm not concerned about our friendship surviving long-term, I am afraid the road is going to be very bumpy for a while.

I'm getting pretty good at compartmentalizing my worries though, and pushing them aside in favor of happier thoughts. And that's what I do now as I exit the 5 and turn my car toward Hale Software.

* * *

When I walk into the beautiful lobby of Hale Software ten minutes later, I'm reminded of the first day I came here, the first time I saw Edward. I can't quite suppress my grin as I walk toward the receptionist and give her my name. Today I have a meeting with Jack, Edward and one of Edward's right-hand guys, Alec. The ad campaign launched a couple of weeks ago and Jack requested an update on both the campaign and the reaction to-date.

Jane comes down a few minutes later to get me and we talk about her upcoming vacation on the way upstairs. I've gotten to know her better during the last couple of months and we've become sort-of friends. I've decided I was paranoid when I thought she suspected something was going on between Edward and me. If Jane has any inkling that we see each other personally, she's hiding her hunch well.

When she opens the door to the conference room, Jack, Edward and Alec are already inside waiting for me. They all stand to greet me and I'm struck by how great Edward looks, even though he looks exactly the same as the last time I saw him… in my apartment seven hours ago when he kissed me goodbye as we both left for work. I tear my eyes away from him and focus on Jack as I approach the table. I shake hands with all of them, my face heating slightly when Jack pulls me close and kisses both of my cheeks. I open my briefcase and produce a bottle of the wine we drank in this room the day we made the ad deal.

"You found a bottle?" Jack asks incredulously, studying the label on the bottle after he takes it from me. He smiles widely at me when he looks my way again. "Bella, this is a wonderful surprise. How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing, Mr. Hale. It's my treat," I reply smiling genuinely at him. Even though I've only met with him a few times, I've come to really like Jack.

"Call me Jack, Bella," he admonishes lightly. "Why do I have to keep telling you that?" he teases, holding out a chair at the table for me.

As I'm giving my report, Edward's phone rings and he excuses himself to take the call in the hallway. When he comes back a few minutes later, I've finished presenting the data and we've moved on to non-business talk. Specifically, Jack is entertaining Alec and me with stories about his European vacation, making me laugh out loud several times, including the instant that Edward walks back in. Edward's eyes slide toward me and narrow curiously, wordlessly communicating that he wants to know what was so funny. We wrap up the meeting a few minutes later and Jack excuses himself to his office, asking Edward and Alec to see me out. I stand up and begin to put away my laptop and files.

"Bella, do you have a few minutes to stop in my office and discuss the campaign with me in greater detail?" Edward asks me in a brusque tone. I don't look up from my briefcase, but my heart skips a beat as I wonder why he sounds pissed off. He wasn't angry with me this morning and I didn't speak to him today before I got here. The campaign reaction so far is better than we expected. What's he so upset about? Alec clears his throat uncomfortably and excuses himself. I swallow nervously before I look up at Edward.

"Sure, Edward," I reply, frowning slightly at him. He nods and gestures toward the doorway for me to begin walking. Silently, we take the elevator down to his floor and walk straight toward his office. As we pass Jane, Edward tersely tells her to hold his calls. He allows me to enter his office first and shuts the door behind us. I set my bag down on a chair and take a deep breath, wondering what the hell he's so mad about.

When I turn around to face him, he's practically on top of me, sliding his arms around my waist and smiling. "Hi," he whispers.

Suspicious, I whisper back. "Hi. What's all this about?"

"I didn't think I should do this in the conference room," he says, lowering his lips to mine to kiss me. He presses his lips hungrily against mine until I finally open mine. He moans softly as he slides his tongue against mine and I reach up to grasp both sides of his jaw. I kiss him back until I can't breathe anymore and I have to pull away.

"Isn't Jane going to wonder why she doesn't hear anyone talking in here?" I pant, as he moves to my neck.

"Probably," he answers, grinning as he raises his head and looks at me. "What's going on with you and Jack? Is he moving in on my territory?"

"I don't know. What do you consider your territory?" I ask, still trying to catch my breath as he goes back to kissing my neck.

"Mine," he replies, kissing up my neck from my collar bone to the spot behind my ear.

"Mine," he says again, kissing my lips, softly this time, nipping at my bottom lip with both of his.

"Spectacular ass... definitely mine," he murmurs against my lips as he skims his hands over my backside.

"So far, no encroachments by Jack," I say, smiling and twining my arms around Edward's neck.

"Mine?" he asks, kissing each cheek.

I chuckle quietly. "Oh, is that what this is about? He kissed me on the cheek?"

"I didn't like it," Edward says, pulling back slightly to look in my eyes.

"Edward, he's older than my dad!" I exclaim quietly enough that Jane can't hear. She probably hears me laugh loudly afterward though.

"And wife number four, who he just took to Europe to try to save the marriage, is about three years older than _you_," Edward says, looking down at me seriously. "Jack's a nice man, Bella, but don't be naive. He's still a man... and you're a beautiful woman who he knows isn't dating anyone."

The instantaneous stab of pain I feel when Edward alludes to the fact that we're not dating should alarm me. But I compartmentalize and choose to focus on the other part of what he's just said.

"Edward...just...no," I stammer, shaking my head. Three years older than me? That would probably make her around Rosalie's age. That's pretty gross. No wonder Rosalie has daddy issues. Edward leans down and kisses me again until I gently pull away, telling him I have to get back to my own office.

"I'll see you tonight?" he asks as I try to wipe the sparkles off his lips with my fingers. I've warned him before about kissing me when I'm wearing lipgloss.

"Yeah. I'm having dinner with Jas and Em, but I'll come over after if you want," I answer, smirking up at him as I give up on cleaning off his mouth. "You're going to have to wash that off in the bathroom."

"Are you packed for San Diego?" he asks, wiping his own hand across his lips and shaking his head when he sees the shimmer left on his fingers. He leans against the front of his desk and grins at me. "I gave you the itinerary, right?"

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. He's given me the itinerary three times _and_ talked me into taking two days off work so we can fly in early Thursday instead of Thursday night. "Yes, I have the itinerary. No, I haven't packed. We don't leave for three days. I'll change my mind a hundred times about what to wear before then," I joke, beaming at him as I pick up my briefcase and turn to go.

"Call me when you're on your way to my house," he calls quietly as I get close to the door.

I open the door and turn to look back at him. Jesus, he's hot – leaning casually against his desk, ankles crossed, still smiling. "I'll certainly do that, Edward. Thank you for making time for me today. I appreciate your attention to this campaign," I say, winking at him and enjoying watching him as he struggles not to laugh out loud. I wipe the smile off my face as I turn back around and walk past Jane's desk. "Asshole never offers to walk me out," I mutter to her, smiling when she laughs quietly.

* * *

As soon as we're on the plane headed to San Diego, I feel it – something's different between Edward and me. I guess the shift I detect between us could all be in my head since we're going to be pretending to be a real couple this weekend, but the change in his demeanor is undeniable. He seems relaxed, he's talkative, and he hasn't let go of my hand since we took our seats in first class. He talks at length about his college friend, Peter, who we'll be seeing this weekend. It's the first time Edward's ever really talked about a friend. He occasionally goes out for drinks with a few of the guys he works with, but doesn't seem particularly close to any of them. Like Alice and me, he keeps most people at arm's length and only has a few true confidantes.

He also tells me about the presentation he'll be making on Saturday at the conference and eventually capitulates to my wish to watch him even though he thinks it'll be boring for me. "It's just a bunch of technical jargon and bullshit, Stel," he says, still trying to talk me out of it. "I wouldn't sit through it if I was you."

"Well, you're not me," I argue, raising my eyebrows at him. "I want to watch you. It's a pretend girlfriend-y thing to do. Plus, you've seen me make presentations several times."

"But yours are interesting," he interjects, smiling at me.

"Yours will be, too, Ned," I argue. "I'll even applaud and whistle when you're done."

He laughs and leans toward me to kiss me quickly. "You'll applaud because it's over," he murmurs against my lips. "Buckle up, Stel. We're descending," he says then, pulling away to refasten his seatbelt and then grabbing my hand again.

* * *

During the limo ride to the Hotel Del Coronado, where the conference is being held, Edward gives me the rundown of the weekend's events… again. Smiling, I nod along, sometimes repeating what he says. When we pull up in front of the hotel, he leans over and kisses me gently twice.

"Ready, pretend girlfriend?" he asks, smiling against my lips as the car comes to a stop.

"Absolutely," I answer, smiling. Suddenly, my door is opened and a tanned male forearm and hand is extended inside to help me out of the car. I scoot away from Edward and let the valet pull me gently up from the low seat as Edward exits out the other side.

I wait as Edward tips the valet who's unloading our luggage and then take the hand he holds out to me, letting him lead me up the front steps and into the lobby. "It's beautiful, yeah?" he asks, leaning down to say the words quietly in my ear. He lets go of my hand and slides his arm around my waist. I whisper an affirmative response as we walk over to the registration desk. As we're checking in, a few other conference attendees call out to Edward. Each time, he turns and waves or says hello without taking his hand off of me.

After we unpack, we decide to walk up the street to a Mexican restaurant for dinner since there aren't any conference activities this evening. We eat outside in the tiled courtyard, enjoying the warmth of the early evening. Like earlier, Edward almost constantly keeps a hand on me – my arm, my back, my leg – and he leans over to kiss me several times. He listens to several stories I tell about Jasper and Emmett without scowling at all. He hasn't made any comments about Jasper since the cabin, thank goodness.

We also share a pitcher of really strong margaritas, so by the time dinner is over, I'm feeling a little warm, a little buzzed …a little flirty. As we finish our drinks and wait for the bill, I repeatedly lean over and whisper things I'd like to do to him in his ear, making him groan sometimes and laugh others. Now I'm the one who can't keep my hands to myself.

When we get back to the hotel it's still early so we wander out to the beach-front bar and decide to stay for sunset. I find us a table while Edward gets drinks. Before he sits down, he slides his chair all the way over next to mine, so we're both sitting on one side of the small table. We sip our drinks in silence for a few minutes, listening to the guy playing guitar and singing a few feet away and watching the sun begin to slide toward the distant place where ocean and sky meet.

Edward's arm is around the back of my chair and he leans in to whisper in my ear. "How am I doing so far?"

I chuckle quietly as goose bumps break out along my arm from the rush of his warm breath in my ear. "Ned, your pretend boyfriend skills are excellent. So far you've fed me, gotten me tipsy, and brought me to watch the sunset from a romantic location while listening to live music. And you get extra credit for repeatedly whispering things that you could have said out loud," I announce as I look into his deep green eyes.

"So I get an A?" he asks conceitedly, smirking at me.

"Yes, Ned. You get an A," I agree, shaking my head at him in mock annoyance as I roll my eyes. I lean toward him, reaching up to his neck to pull him down to me so I can kiss him. After we pull apart, I wait until he picks up his drink to take a sip before finishing my thought. "Arrogant, _overachieving_ semi-asshole."

He laughs loudly and pulls me toward him to hug me then tells me I'm ruining the romantic atmosphere of the sunset. I glance toward the chalkboard showing the sunset time and see that sunset it about thirty minutes from now. I have time to go to the ladies' room without missing it, so I kiss Edward quickly and walk away in search of a bathroom.

When I get back several minutes later, Edward is not alone: Another woman is sitting in my chair. It looks like Edward has moved his chair away slightly, but he's still sitting relatively close to the blonde. I can only see the back of her, but I see that she's dressed in a pantsuit and heels. I wonder briefly if Edward wishes I was dressed more professionally tonight instead of in a long, peasant skirt, t-shirt and flip flops. Nervously, I approach the table, feeling uneasy when I hear Edward laugh at something the chippy says. Maybe he won't want me to interrupt. I slow my approach and am still several feet away when he turns around, searching, and spots me immediately.

"There she is," he says to the woman sitting with him as he holds out his hand toward me. I step forward to take it and let him pull me to his side. "Bella, this is Tanya Denali. She's the president of Omni Software. Tanya, this is my Bella." Ah, the object of our masquerade has landed.

Tanya and I shake hands and exchange hellos, but she makes no move to get out of my chair. She and Edward pick up their conversation and Edward tugs on me and pats his leg for me to sit on his lap. I don't, merely picking up my drink from the table and swallowing a few sips as I gaze out at the ocean. Hey, pretend boyfriend, quit ignoring your pretend girlfriend.

"Bella?" Edward says softly. I look down at him. "Sit down, baby," he pleads, his eyes searching my face. I purse my lips to the side, biting back the retort I'd like to make about him bossing me around, and gingerly sit down like a good pretend girlfriend. He smiles at me and leans in to place a kiss on my neck as he slides his hand down from my waist to rest on my hip. I notice Tanya's eyes narrow before she recovers and smiles saccharinely in my direction.

"How long have you two been seeing each other?" she asks.

"Three months," Edward and I answer at the same time, then look at each other and laugh.

"And what is it you do, Bella?" she inquires, her tone dripping with venom, belying the wide smile on her face. I take in her appearance quickly – she's probably in her late forties. I bet she used to be pretty, but she looks like she's trying too hard to hold onto her youth – her makeup is too heavy, her hair is long and frizzy, her forehead doesn't seem to move naturally and her lips are too plump. Not to mention the fact that her gigantic boobs are sitting way too high on her chest for someone her age… hell, they're too high for someone _my_ age. They have to be fakies.

"I work at a small ad firm near Seattle," I answer civilly. Edward and I decided in advance that I wouldn't say the name of the firm in order to protect McCarty and Whitlock from any backlash. I didn't tell Edward that Tanya pulled the cougar act with Jasper, too – he doesn't even know I work for Jasper – but he does know that Omni was a client of ours a couple of years ago.

"Wow. Edward must be quite the catch for you then," she says, attempting to demean me in front of my fake boyfriend. I feel the fury begin to rise inside me even as I feel Edward's arm tighten around my hip.

"Not at all, Tanya," Edward says levelly, but I hear the underlying anger in his tone. "Truthfully, Bella is much more of a catch than I am. She's intelligent and talented and I'm very proud of the work she does… very proud of her."

"Oh, my! I think you've misinterpreted my statement, Edward. I only meant to point out how lucky she is," Tanya says sweetly, laughing and reaching over to pat Edward's arm. Bitch hangs on just a little too long for a professional acquaintance though.

"I couldn't agree more," I offer, looking her in the eye and conveying, in the silent way women do, that I know she's full of shit and she'd better stay away from my man… well, my pretend man. Message sent, I turn my attention to Edward. "Sweetie, you said we could walk on the beach at sunset. Remember?" He squeezes my hip gently and I lean in to kiss him for good measure.

"Right, baby. Tanya, you'll excuse us, I'm sure," he says as we stand. He takes my hand and leads me to the stairs down to the beach. We both kick off our shoes and leave them in the sand as we walk toward the water.

"Thanks for sticking up for me, but you didn't have to," I say, looking down at the sand.

"Yes, I did. It's a pretend boyfriend thing. But even if I wasn't your pretend boyfriend, I would have said what I did because you're my friend," he says matter-of-factly as we continue trudging through the deep, dry sand toward the water. From the corner of my eye, I see his head turn toward me, but I keep my eyes fixed on the ground. "And what I said also happens to be true. All of it." My face breaks into a smile and I look up at Edward, making sure he's sincere. He is.

When we reach the ocean, we both wade in ankle-deep to stand looking out at the horizon as the waves come rushing in. I use both hands to hold the hem of my skirt up a few inches so it doesn't get wet. But I am unprepared for the way the ocean seems to suck back the water it just pushed to shore and I lose my balance as the sand rushes away from under my feet. With one hand, I grab onto Ned's arm so I don't fall on my ass in the wet sand.

"Whoa, Stella. You okay?" he asks, laughing. Embarrassed, I nod and re-grasp my skirt even though the right side of the hem is all wet now. Edward moves to stand behind me and wrap his arms around me, steadying me as we continue watching the last few seconds of sunset. As soon as the sun disappears, a ship's bell rings out from the bar and everyone applauds.

"That's weird. We're applauding for the rotation of our planet?" I grumble.

"Come on, Stel. Don't be such a cynic. We're celebrating the end of a beautiful day," he whispers in my ear.

I pull away and turn in his arms to look up at him. "Who are you and what have you done with my pretend boyfriend?" I ask quizzically, frowning up at him mockingly. I've moved a little deeper into the water and can feel that the bottom of my skirt is getting wet in the cool Pacific Ocean. Feeling carefree and un-cynical for a moment, I let go of the fabric I had bunched in my fingers and look down at the wet fabric swirling around my legs.

Edward reaches both arms around my hips and lifts me up into his arms so suddenly that I squeal at the unexpected movement. He lifts me high enough that I'm looking down at him, both of us laughing. "Kiss me," he implores. I dig my hands into his hair slowly as I lower my mouth to his. Sighing, I press my lips deliberately to his several times before I open them. I slide my tongue along his lips leisurely, gently stoking the fire in each of us. I feel him harden against the front of my legs and I moan quietly, then chuckle when he moans in response. We continue kissing for a few minutes, surrounded by the sound of the crashing waves. I'm grateful for the rapidly receding daylight, hoping we're hidden in the semi-darkness since we're making out on the beach like a couple of teenagers. But, God, I don't want to stop kissing him.

He pulls away from the kiss before I do. "Stella! Look at the time!" he says with mock horror, even though I'm not wearing a watch and he can't see his. "I've got to get to bed." I laugh, knowing it's not much later than eight o'clock. I kiss him again as he sets me down in the water, soaking even more of my skirt. "You don't mind going to bed a little early, do you?"

I step out of the water and bend down, trying to wring out the wetness. "Nope, Ned. Not at all," I reply, still grinning as I straighten back up. I grasp his outstretched hand and walk beside him back toward the hotel, dripping the whole way.

* * *

Friday morning, I hear Edward's alarm sound, hear the shower running, hear him moving around the room getting ready. I never move from my spot though, lying on my stomach in the big, soft bed, my bare back exposed since the covers are bunched around my waist. I'm too lazy to pull them up even though I'm a little chilly. I sink back into sleep.

"Stel," he whispers softly, his mouth near my ear, his hands on either side of my head. He waits until I grunt at him before he continues. "I'm leaving now. You gonna be okay on your own today?" I grunt again, trying to sound affirmative when I do. He chuckles lightly and kisses my shoulder.

"All right. This thing is scheduled to go until three today. I'll find you as soon as I get out," he says. I sigh loudly, but don't verbally answer him. I feel his fingers ghost across the skin of my bare back and then feel his warm, wet mouth trailing behind it. He starts at my waist and kisses up my spine a bit before beginning to veer on each side, back and forth… back and forth… back and forth. Restlessly, I rub my legs together and moan quietly. When he reaches my neck, he licks up to my ear.

"Edward," I whisper.

"Have a good day, baby," he says lowly in my ear, chuckling as he pulls the sheet up to cover my back.

"Ned, you are going to have to finish that later," I mumble sleepily, rolling over and opening my eyes to look up at him.

He leans down again to kiss my lips quickly. "I know. Bye. Sleep, Bella."

"Bye. Have a good meeting," I say, stretching a little just to torment him. He laughingly shakes his head at me as he walks out the door. I promptly turn back over and close my eyes, smiling.

* * *

Several hours later, I lay beside the pool, eyes closed, half-asleep, half-listening to some kids splashing in the pool. Every few minutes, warm droplets of water fall on my legs when the kids jump into the pool. I hear someone settle onto the lounge chair beside mine, but don't open my eyes.

I gasp when I feel something cold slide across my bare stomach. Immediately, I open my eyes and sit up, looking for my assailant and grabbing the ice cube that continues to slide across my skin.

"Ned!" I exclaim, tossing the ice cube over at him. He's lying on the lounge next to mine sporting sunglasses, a huge smile and blue plaid board shorts. "You finished early?"

"Yeah, a little. I peeked out here and saw my beautiful pretend girlfriend wearing a bikini I've never seen before and I couldn't resist joining her," he smirks.

I smile back as I reach for my soda on the table in between us. "Did you put your fingers in here to get that ice?" I ask before taking a drink. Laughingly, he shakes his head no so I take a big drink then offer it to him.

We lie in the sun for a couple of hours, talking and swimming intermittently, until it's time to go in and get ready for the evening's cocktail reception. When we get to our room, I head for the shower first. I've been in for several minutes when I hear Ned outside the glass door.

"Stel, I just got a call. I have to be on a conference call in a little bit, so I'm going to shower with you to save time, okay?" he calls. I use my hand to wipe a streak down the steam-fogged door so I can see him. He's smiling, naked, waiting for me to let him in. Smiling back, I push the door open and he steps in, pulling me into his arms immediately.

"Why do I feel like I've just been tricked?" I muse as Edward turns us so that he's leaning up against the marble wall. Holding me close to him with one arm, he reaches for my breasts with the other hand and kisses my neck.

"No trickery involved, Stel. Just efficient use of time," he mumbles into my skin. "I really do have a conference call. I really was going to do this when you got out of the shower. I'm just combining the showering and the sex."

"Mmmm," I moan, arching my neck back to give him better access. "Multi-tasking, huh?"

"Mmmhmm. I think there was something I was supposed to finish," he says, turning us so that I'm up against the wall and then turning me again so that my back is to him. He takes my hands and places them flat against the chilly marble on either side of my head. "Don't move," he whispers before skimming the shell of my ear with his tongue. I hold in the gasp, but I am literally panting with desire, with anticipation, already.

He shifts my wet hair out of the way and kisses across my back from shoulder to shoulder as he slides his hands around my body to cup my breasts, kneading them gently then capturing my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and pulling. I whimper quietly, leaning my forehead against the wall, watching his hands.

He pulls his mouth away from my back and presses his hips against mine, sliding his erection in between my thighs and stroking back and forth several times. "Jesus, Stel, you're so beautiful …so fucking gorgeous like this. Wet from the shower, wet for me," he says, his voice raspy as he continues to glide against me. I can only moan softly in response as he goes back to kissing my shoulders, grasping my breasts more forcefully before sliding his hands down my sides. He runs his open mouth, his tongue, down my back and I feel him drop to his knees behind me, using his hands to squeeze my behind. He kisses me there, too, making me giggle.

"Ass-kisser," I mutter teasingly, then gasp as he sucks on the spot he was kissing. He slides one hand between my legs, moaning into my skin when he slides his thumb inside me and rubs my clit with his index finger.

"Edward…. I…. oh my God," I moan, wanting to close my eyes, but mesmerized by the long fingers peeking from between my legs.

"Does that feel good, baby?" he asks, moving his fingers in slow, deliberate circles. His other hand caresses up and down the front of my left leg unhurriedly.

"Yes. God, Ned… please," I gasp, letting my eyes slide shut.

Suddenly, Edward moves his hands to either side of my hips and pushes against me, urging me to turn around. When I do, he looks up at me, his green eyes dark and wanting. Tearing his gaze away from mine, he kisses across my lower abdomen while running his hands up and down the backs of my legs. He pulls at my left leg until I let him lift it and slide his shoulder under my knee, leaving me standing on just my right. I put my right hand out against the adjoining wall to steady myself as Edward's mouth moves down… down. I bury my left hand in his hair and try to rest more of my weight against the icy wall at my back.

Using his hands to help hold me upright, Edward uses his mouth to pleasure me, licking and sucking at my sensitive skin until I cry out and my shaking right leg threatens to collapse under my weight. Still supporting me, Edward lets my left leg down gently and stands up, cupping his hands under my behind and sliding me easily up the slick marble wall until we're face to face.

"I want you," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss me, sliding his tongue, which tastes of me, into my mouth. I wrap my arms and legs around him and kiss him back hungrily, feeling him shift us around slightly. He pushes into me smoothly and thrusts frantically several times.

"Oh, my God, Ned," I moan, pulling away from his mouth and banging my head against the wall behind me. "Ow."

"All right, Stel?" he asks, stilling inside me and looking at me with concern. I nod and let my eyes slide closed.

"Yes….. don't stop," I beg, pulling his head until he moves his mouth back to mine. We kiss languidly as he begins moving in me again, sliding slowly in and out of me this time.

"Fuck, baby, I love… being with you," he groans. I open my eyes so I can see him and smile gently at him.

I cradle his face in my hands, looking into his eyes until it becomes too intense, until the feelings I always manage to push down threaten to come bubbling up. I dive for his neck, licking and sucking the spot under his right ear – the spot I know drives him crazy. I'm not disappointed when his hips jerk more forcefully against mine.

"Hurry, Ned," I whisper against his ear, using my legs to move myself against him. He pushes me harder up against the wall and thrusts rapidly. Gasping, I cry out as I come, feeling him convulse inside me immediately after.

"God… fuck… Bella," he says hoarsely, thrusting through his orgasm. When we quit moving against each other, he leans his forehead against the wall beside my head, still breathing hard. I tilt my head sideways to rest gently against his, trying to catch my breath, too.

After a minute, Edward slowly lowers me back to the ground. He hangs onto me to make sure I'm steady on my feet before he reaches for the soap and gently washes me. When he's done, I do the same for him, even washing his hair. We are quiet, each of us seemingly not wanting to break the spell the hot shower sex cast over us. We kiss, but neither of us speaks until we're out of the shower, wrapped in big, soft towels.

"Is there a reason we don't shower together every morning?" he asks, finally ending our period of silence.

"Um, because we'd never get to work if we did that every morning?" I offer, smiling at him in the mirror as I comb through my hair.

"Yeah… but who cares?" he laughs.

"It would get old if we did it every day," I argue, dabbing moisturizer on my face.

"Never, Bella. Being with you would never get old," he says seriously, kissing the top of my head and then walking out of the bathroom.

* * *

"You're stunning," Edward says when I walk out of the bathroom forty minutes later, dressed except for my shoes. He's sitting at the desk looking over some papers, but he turned my way when I opened the bathroom door. He's dressed, too, except for his suit jacket which is hung over the back of his chair.

"Thank you. You're looking pretty good yourself, Ned," I smile as I sit on the bench at the end of our bed to slip my shoes on. I love these shoes… and I love Jimmy Choo, whoever the hell he is. They are the most expensive shoes I've ever owned and I had absolutely no business buying them last week, but the slender, sexy heels sold me. I reasoned that since I got such a great deal on the clingy little black dress I'm wearing, I could afford to splurge on the shoes. Plus, they're black, strappy, three-and-a-half-inch-heel shoes. I'll keep them forever.

He smiles crookedly at me. "I'll get off the phone as quickly as I can. Do you want to go on down to the lounge and wait for me? Have a glass of wine or something?" he asks.

"Sure," I answer, getting the feeling that he doesn't want me here listening to whatever the call is about. When I'm ready, he walks me to the door and kisses me, repeating that he'll join me as soon as possible.

Downstairs, I find a stool at the bar in the lounge and order a vodka and soda. The bartender, Tim, is attentive, standing and talking to me when he's not waiting on other customers. During the fifteen minutes we talk, I find out quite a bit about him. He finds out that I'm waiting for my boyfriend to join me. While Tim is waiting on someone else, I look up at the tv hanging over the bar, reading the sports scores even though I don't know who most of the teams are. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a man sit down on the stool next to me, but I don't look at him.

"Ms. Swan? Bella Swan? Is that you?" the man beside me asks, sounding surprised.

I turn my head slightly until I can see his face… and I'm surprised, too.

* * *

**Guess who?**


	14. A Sandy Eggo

**A/N: Sheesh! I'm officially the slowest proofer on the planet...this took me forever. I added about three pages though and had to stop to watch Eclipse (sigh) with my daughter who demanded that I spend some time off the laptop today. It was not against the rules for her to text her bff from her ipod touch all movie-long however. Whatever. **

**Thanks for reading...big, big thanks to the reviewers! And those of you who are rec'ing me elsewhere, thanks a million! **

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Chapter 14: A Sandy Eggo

* * *

I don't like surprises. I don't like them because, in my experience, more often than not they don't turn out to be good ones. The one sitting on the barstool beside mine could go either way, I guess… but if I was placing bets, I'd bet it will turn out to be a bad one, too.

I _really_ don't like surprises.

The surprise sitting next to me is the man I met at Hale Software in New York. The hallway-lurking, ass-staring guy. What was his name? Jim….no, Johnny…. no, that's not right either. Damn.

"Yes, I'm Bella Swan. I recognize you, but I'm sorry, I can't remember your name," I say, turning my head a little farther and smiling despite the fact that this whole situation makes me uncomfortable.

"Jamie. Jamie Hale," he replies, extending his hand. Jamie! That's it. Wait… Hale? He's a Hale?

I plaster on my best fake smile as I shake his hand, pulling my hand away as quickly as I politely can. "Yes, of course. It's nice to see you again, Jamie. I didn't realize you were a Hale. I presume you're related to Jack then?" I ask.

Bright blue eyes bore into mine as he answers. "Yes, Jack is my uncle. Can I buy you a drink?" he asks, smiling. He's good-looking and he looks harmless… so why do I have that same funny feeling I had in New York? That feeling that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up… the feeling that lets you know something just isn't right.

I suddenly wish that I had remembered to ask Edward about him when we were in New York. After all the Rosalie drama that followed the board meeting, I forgot to tell Edward about the strange encounter I had with Jamie in the hallway. And the rest of that weekend was so wonderful that I never gave him another thought. Until right now.

"Oh, um, thanks, but I don't think I need another quite yet," I answer, holding up my half-full glass to show him. Tim the bartender fixes a scotch and water for Jamie and then leaves us alone, despite the desperate plea I make with my eyes for him to stay.

Shit! I glance around quickly, hoping to see Edward approaching, but no such luck. I'm not sure how to act with one of Edward's colleagues, even one that I don't think he cares much for; the glare Edward directed at Jamie in the boardroom in New York was lethal. But since I don't know for sure what Edward would want me to say, I use a classic diversion tactic – taking charge of the conversation and steering it where I want: the beautiful San Diego weather, when he got here, how long he's staying, what it's like living in New York. Luckily, he's egocentric enough that he lets me continue to ask questions, seemingly satisfied to talk about himself and not learn much about me for almost fifteen minutes.

As he talks, his eyes repeatedly rove over my body, consistently lingering on my chest. Feeling self-conscious, I sip my drink faster than I should and Tim appears with another drink for me without being asked. As before, thinking that I've found a friend, he winks at me and then disappears.

"We should have a toast," Jamie says, turning his stool to face me. He holds his new glass of scotch up toward me, waiting for me to raise mine in return before continuing. "To… unexpected meetings. They can provide a flood of valuable information." Ugh. Now I'm drinking a toast to surprises.

He taps his glass against mine, making the fine crystal chime prettily, and smiles at me. Although his smile looks normal, the look in his eyes seems contemptuous. I try to smile back, but when my lips refuse to turn upward, I take a sip of my drink instead, hoping to swallow down the bile I feel rising in my throat. While I'm busy drinking, his eyes rake up and down my body again, hesitating on my legs this time. Finally, his gaze drifts back toward my face, but I see it halt at my neck.

"That's beautiful… your necklace," Jamie says, leaning toward me to look at the silver "B" initial pendant I'm wearing. I'm sure it's not an accident that his fingers graze along the base of my throat before he lifts the necklace away from my skin. The way he handles it, pulls on it, causes me to instinctively swivel my barstool to face him, afraid he's going to break the chain if I don't. "A gift?"

"Yes," I reply, but don't give any further information. I got it from my dad for my last birthday. When he gave it to me, he said it was to remind me of who I am. I got a lot of those kinds of atta-girl, self-confidence-boosting gifts last year from my dad in the wake of everything that happened with Jake.

Jamie is still grasping the square disc as he lifts his eyes to mine again. "Beautiful," he repeats as I swallow nervously, clutching my glass with both hands.

At last, I hear the voice I've been longing for during the last twenty minutes.

"Bella, sweetheart, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," Edward says evenly from behind me. Instantly, my eyes slide shut in relief, only re-opening when he steps up beside me and slides his arm around my waist, squeezing gently. I keep my eyes on Jamie, expecting him to move away from me immediately, but he doesn't. In fact, Jamie looks up at Edward tauntingly before carefully placing the pendant back against the hollow of my throat, pressing his fingers to my skin unnecessarily as he does. Finally, he sits up straight on his stool.

"Cullen," Jamie says, his pretty face twisted by his scornful smile.

"James," Edward answers, his voice still cool, his tone still level. "I wasn't aware you were attending this conference."

"No, I'm quite sure you weren't. Otherwise…," he remarks, breaking off with a derisive chuckle. He picks up his drink, draining the last of the amber liquid from the glass, resting his eyes on my body once more. He sets his glass down and licks the lingering wetness from his lips before lifting his gaze up to meet mine. "Well, I think I'll head out to the reception. Bella, our chat was extremely… stimulating," he says, then shifts his eyes to Edward's as his lips curl into a sneering grin. He gets up from his stool and disappears out the terrace doors without a backward glance at Edward and me. I finally set my drink down and rub my hands together briskly to warm them up.

"Edward, I –," I begin, but he silences me by moving in front of me and capturing my lips with his. He holds my face tenderly between his hands and kisses me several times, then kisses my forehead before sitting down on the stool James abandoned.

"Jesus, Bella, I'm so sorry. I had no idea he was here. How long were you stuck with him?" he asks anxiously. I tell him truthfully about meeting Jamie in New York and seeing him here again tonight. I also tell him how ill-at-ease I feel around Jamie. By the time I'm done speaking, Edward's face has settled into a deep frown. But I know he's frowning about Jamie, not about me.

"Well, he may try to get to you again since he knows we're here together. I'm sure I was his primary target this weekend, but I'm afraid now it will be you," Ned says with a deep sigh.

"So, I gather you two don't get along?" I ask, pushing my drink toward Edward when he motions toward the glass and raises his eyebrows questioningly.

He laughs bitterly. "That, Bella, is the understatement of the century," he says, his tone laced with animosity, as he takes a big swallow of my drink. He tilts the glass back and forth, watching the clear liquid swirling inside, and takes another sip before setting the glass back on the bar. Finally, he raises his eyes back to mine and continues. "James and I have known each other since we were kids. We never got along, but things went downhill fast when Jack gave me the position James wanted almost seven years ago."

"You became executive vice-president when you were twenty-four?" I ask incredulously.

He shakes his head sharply twice. "No, this was earlier in my career. Jack put me in a managerial position about two years after I started working at Hale. That position made me James' boss. James didn't like it," Edward explains, rubbing the fingers of one hand roughly back and forth across his forehead. "He tried repeatedly to exact revenge on me professionally, and when that didn't work, he decided to go after me personally… to go after the people I cared for."

I notice that Edward's right leg is now bouncing rapidly – that's a nervous habit I've never seen him display before. I hope I don't look as alarmed as I feel, but seeing Edward this rattled is causing the uncomfortable feeling I already had about Jamie to escalate into full-fledged fear. My heart is racing and I feel like I'm not breathing right.

"Go after people you cared for like who? Like your girlfriend?" I ask carefully, remembering a guy from high school who would always try to get other guys' girlfriends to cheat with him just to be an asshole. But Edward, I think, wouldn't be this unnerved about something like that.

Edward shrugs. "I didn't have a girlfriend at the time," he answers tightly, his leg still jumpy, his eyes now darting erratically around the bar, never landing on me. He picks my drink up again and finishes it, then flags Tim down to make him another.

I frown, confused. "Then how'd he go after you personall-," I begin, then gasp and cover my mouth with my hands as I finally get the puzzle pieces together in my head. Edward's gaze snaps back to meet mine immediately. "Oh, my God! Alice," I whisper behind my fingers. The eyes. The hair. Riley.

Edward nods stiffly. "Yes," he says cautiously, his dark green eyes holding mine captive. "He doesn't know about Riley."

Slowly, I lower my hands and lean toward Edward. "He used Alice to hurt you?" I ask lowly, my eyes narrowed in anger at this man who hurt two people who have become very important to me. In my head, I run through the self-defense moves my dad forced me to learn and wonder if I can take James down. I took my dad down last year, but he wasn't fighting me too hard. Jamie would probably not think twice about hitting me. Still, I think I might be pissed enough to do it.

"Yeah. She was a kid – not even twenty-one yet. He was twenty-six. He pursued her, romanced her, convinced her to keep it a secret from me, then talked her into bed… and had the pictures to prove it," Edward says quietly, looking down.

"Oh, Edward," I say, reaching for his hand and grasping it firmly. I can tell by his demeanor that he blames himself for what James did to Alice.

He shrugs one shoulder, feigning detachment, but he's clutching my hand so tightly it hurts a little. "He got what he wanted. I promoted him… I promoted him and transferred him to our offices in Dallas as soon as Alice found out she was pregnant," Edward says flatly. "By that time, she knew the truth about James and she didn't want him anywhere near the baby… neither did I."

Before I'm even aware of my intentions, I've launched myself at Edward, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Jesus, Edward. I'm so sorry," I say, holding him tightly and kissing the side of his head. I feel his arms come around me for a moment before they slacken and I get back on my own stool. He takes a deep breath and huffs it out harshly, then looks back up at me. He forces a smile onto his face and grazes the back of one hand across my cheek.

"We're not going to let him ruin this weekend for us, but stick close to me tonight, okay? Don't get trapped alone with him again, Bella. I don't trust him at all," he says, dropping his hand away from my face. He picks up the fresh drink and downs almost half of it before offering it to me sheepishly. "Sorry. I should have let you drink first."

Smiling, I shake my head at him. "It's okay. Are you sure you're feeling up to this tonight?" I ask. "Are you sure you want me to be your pretend girlfriend even though Jamie's here?"

He leans toward me to kiss me. "Yes," he says pulling back before kissing me again, "and yes. I'm calming down. James can't hurt me anymore and I won't let him hurt you. Let's go. I want to show off my fucking gorgeous pretend girlfriend."

He stands up and takes my hand as I step down from my barstool. He pulls it through his other arm to rest on his forearm and bends down to kiss the spot right in front of my ear.

"Ready, baby?" he asks quietly.

My heart rate accelerates again - not from fear this time - as I meet his eyes with my own. "Absolutely."

* * *

The cocktail party is elegant, held on the lawn just above the beach. When Edward and I get outside, it's almost sunset, so the light is beginning to wane. The lawn area is outlined with lit tiki torches which seem to glow brighter by the moment as the daylight fades. Edward and I mingle for the first hour of the party and he introduces me to everyone he talks to as his girlfriend. I'm constantly aware of Jamie's location, and I think Edward is, too, although he's less obvious about looking around than I am. Edward always steers us clear of Jamie's general vicinity. But Jamie catches me looking his way several times; each time, he winks at me, smiling haughtily.

Like Edward asked, I stay close to him, hanging onto his arm and reveling in the way he makes me feel protected, the way he pays attention to me. Edward's always attentive in private, but this is the first time we've been at a social function like this together. He leans down to listen to everything I say and often answers me with his lips brushing against my ear. He includes me in every conversation and looks at me adoringly when I speak. He's as good as Jasper is at looking like a love-struck, doting boyfriend.

When Tanya slithers up to join a conversation Edward is having with some guys from a computer hardware company, she looks at me with obvious dislike. I return the sentiment with my eyes even as my lips curl upward into a somewhat friendly smile. I note with glee that her champagne-colored dress doesn't look good with her skin tone and it's too tight across her hips. I keep the giggle to myself though.

Edward doesn't pay any attention to her except to say hello, and as we walk away from her minutes later, he lets his hand slip dangerously low on the curve of my ass. I don't even try to stop the giggle that time even though I look up at him and raise my eyebrows. "Really?" I ask snidely.

He winks down at me and shrugs, but moves his hand up to the middle of my back. "Sorry, Stel. I shouldn't do that to you in public, but she's such a bitch to you. I want her to know that I don't want anyone but you."

Well, hell. How am I supposed to argue with that?

Shortly after that, Edward introduces me to his college friend, Peter, and his wife, Charlotte. Charlotte and I hit it off immediately and the four of us spend the rest of the reception sitting together. When the reception is over, we move inside to the bar and I'm relieved when neither Jamie nor Tanya is around.

I'm having such a good time – and have such a good buzz going – that I don't realize it's getting close to midnight until Edward nudges me with his elbow. "Baby, I'm giving that presentation in the morning. I'd probably better go up," he says, sounding reluctant to ruin my fun.

"All right, bigshot," I say, leaning over to kiss him before standing up from the table. Peter stands to kiss my cheek and Charlotte and I hug, promising to see each other tomorrow. Then Edward and I walk up the old, creaky staircase to our room on the next floor.

* * *

As soon as the door's locked behind us, he grabs me.

"Hell, I didn't think I could wait one more minute," he growls, reaching for the zipper at my back. "You looked incredible tonight, but I want this off… now." As our lips meet passionately, he peels the dress from my shoulders and I push it the rest of the way down then push at his jacket. He drops his jacket to the floor as I tug his tie apart and start on the buttons of his shirt. He attempts to help, which leads to a lot of fumbling and hands getting in each other's way.

"Shit, we're clumsy," I laugh into his mouth as we finally get the shirt unbuttoned and off.

"Speak for yourself, Stel," he laughs back. "I'm extraordinarily coordinated. You were in the way." In my tipsy state, that comment pisses me off a little bit.

"Is that right?" I say, pulling back and arching one eyebrow at him. Smirking, he gets to work on his pants, quickly sliding them down his legs and then bending to slide off his shoes and socks along with them.

"Yep," he confirms as he walks toward me. I take a step backward for every step he takes forward. I know I'm getting close to the bed, but I'm not capitulating this easily.

His eyes dart to the side of the room and I turn my head to see what he's looking at, realizing too late that he's used one of the oldest tricks in the book. While my head is still turned, he doubles his advance, reaching me and wrapping me in his arms before I know what's hit me.

He lifts me and walks the few steps to the bed, lying me down crossways on it and following me down, straddling my legs. Reaching under me, he unhooks my bra and pulls it off, then leans down to kiss my lips. Despite my internal vow to make him suffer for his comment, as soon as our lips meet, I open mine and let him in. Tangling one hand in my hair and using the other to cradle my face, he kisses me feverishly.

Reaching my hands under his arms and around his back, I raise them to his shoulders then dig my nails in, scratching all the way down his back to the waistband of his boxer briefs… not too hard, but enough to cause a little discomfort. He arches his back slightly and moans into my mouth.

"Gonna play rough tonight, Stella?" he asks, panting into my mouth, his bright green eyes burning with intensity as he opens them to look at me.

"I'll play however you want, Ned," I answer, sliding my hands under the waistband of his briefs.

He pulls away from my mouth, sitting up on his knees, but careful to keep his weight off my legs. I move my hands to grip the tops of his thighs. He reaches for my breasts with both hands, holding his hands flat and using his palms to lightly graze my nipples with slow circles. Never breaking eye contact, he whispers, "I want to fuck you so hard you don't know where you are by the time I'm done."

I dig my fingernails into his legs as I moan and arch my back in response, trying to get more contact with his hands. He complies, grasping my breasts in his hands and pushing them together, then bending down to kiss and suck at my nipples.

"Fuck…. Edward," I groan, prompting him to suck harder before kissing a path up to my mouth. He lets go of my breasts and slides his hands into the hair on each side of my head. He puts his mouth on mine, but doesn't really kiss me. Looking into each other's eyes, we breathe hard into each other.

"Are you sure?" he asks. I nod jerkily, still trying to catch my breath. "You have to tell me if I'm too rough with you, okay?" I nod again, sliding one hand up to touch the side of his face. He lowers his mouth the last inch and kisses me so gently, so sweetly that I think he's changed his mind.

When he sits up again, his eyes rove my face, my upper body. He quickly scoots off the bed and slides his boxers off. Reaching forward, he grabs one side of my thong with his hands, jerking once sharply and smiling as the thin strings tear. He repeats the action on the other side, then tosses the now-useless scrap of fabric to the floor beside him. Looking into my eyes, he slowly skims his hands down the outside of my legs until he gets to my ankles and the strappy heels I'm still wearing.

"These," he tells me as he grasps a foot with each hand, "stay on. Roll over."

I roll onto my stomach and Edward immediately grabs my ankles and pushes my legs apart. He traces a finger over a spot on my behind then leans down over me and kisses the same spot. "I marked you earlier. I didn't mean to, but it looks so fucking good, I might do it again," he says lowly, climbing onto the bed in between my legs. He pulls at my hips until I raise them off the bed, scooting up onto my knees. But when I try to raise onto my arms, too, Edward pushes gently between my shoulder blades and says simply, "No."

He barely lets me get balanced on my knees and elbows before he thrusts into me. I inhale sharply and push back against him. He pulls almost all the way out and slams into me again. I whimper and grip the edge of the mattress with my fingers.

"Christ, Stel, you're so fucking tight this way," he whispers, holding still for a moment and using his hands to gather my hair and toss all of it over my left shoulder. He brushes his hands down my back then around my sides to grasp a breast with each hand. Several times he slides out and crashes back into me, using his grip on my breasts to pull me back toward him. I moan quietly each time. When he releases my breasts and uses his hands to span the sides of my waist, I try to push up again with my arms.

"I said no, Bella," he says again, thrusting into me harshly again. Tightening his grip on my waist, he speeds up, thrusting shallowly and quickly as I gasp underneath him.

"Edward….God…. please," I mumble, barely able to speak coherently.

"Please what? Let you come?" he growls, still moving rapidly in me.

"Mmm… please," I beg again, he thrusts once deeply then holds still. Sliding one arm all the way around my waist in front, he runs the other hand down the back of my left leg and grabs hold of my foot. He lifts gently, pulling that knee up off the bed a few inches, thrusting shallowly into me again as I try to keep my balance. When my right leg begins to tremble slightly from the strain, he stills again and lowers my knee back to the bed.

"Jesus Christ, you're perfect," he mutters. He lets go of my foot and wraps his left arm around my waist, moving his right hand to knead my right thigh soothingly for a moment. "I'm going to make you come now, baby. I wish we were home so you could scream for me, but you're gonna have to be quiet, okay?"

I whimper and nod in response as he tightens the arm around my waist and slides his right hand up my inner thigh, straight to my clit. He begins thrusting slowly at first, his fingers mimicking the same speed, until I move my hips faster, trying to goad him into moving at the same pace. Finally, he speeds up and after only a few more thrusts, I cry out quietly, calling his name as I come undone. Bracing his left arm on the bed, he leans down across my back and I can feel the sweat on his chest as he gently bites my left shoulder, sucking at my skin until he feels my orgasm subside.

He stays there for a few more seconds before pushing back on his knees, scraping his fingernails lightly down my back and causing more fissures of pleasure to explode in me. He pulls out of me completely and scoots back, then helps me roll to my back. I push my hair away from my sweaty forehead as he settles his body between my legs and kisses me leisurely, letting me recover. One of his hands is buried in my damp hair and I instinctively reach to his, glad that he is just as sweaty from exertion as I am.

We move our hips in unison, but he doesn't enter me. When he kisses down my neck to my chest and licks a swirling path around first one nipple then the other, I moan, long and low. His answering moan is muffled as he pulls my nipple into his mouth sucking so hard that it's a tiny bit painful.

"Oh, God…. Edward…. Edward," I groan, still gripping his hair with one hand. I reach for his arm with my other hand, wrapping my fingers around his bicep and then sliding down, squeezing his forearm before finding his hand. He slides his fingers between mine and we each hold tightly as he presses our joined hands to the mattress.

Abruptly, Ned raises back up onto his knees, his eyes seeking mine again. He pulls our joined hands to his mouth and kisses my fingers before letting go of my hand. He pushes my left leg in toward my chest and then pulls my foot up to his shoulder, pausing to kiss the arch of my foot through the straps of the shoe. He bends my right leg at the knee, pushing it out slightly to the side but hooking my foot around the back of his thigh.

When he lines up and pushes slowly into me, I gasp and arch my back, letting my eyes slide closed. He doesn't go slowly at all this time, immediately increasing his pace and ramming into me again and again. I push my left hand into my hair, humming softly. Edward grunts with every stroke. After a minute, I feel his hand move to where we're joined and open my eyes to find him watching us.

When he sees me looking at him, his face softens and his pace slows. "Put your hand here with mine, Stel. Feel how perfectly we fit," he whispers hoarsely. Unable to deny him, I lower my hand until he grabs it with his and holds our twined hands around him as he moves in and out of me.

"Ned… I… oh, God," I pant. I can't keep my eyes open anymore.

"Baby," he answers, picking up the pace again. We both let go – then he wraps his hand around my right thigh helping me hold it in place. I reach down beside me and grasp the sheet tightly. "Do you still know where you are?"

"Yes. San Diego. Hotel Del. It's haunted, you know," I ramble.

"Oh, fuck, Bella. Are you trying to kill me – giving me trivia now?" he groans, but he sounds amused.

"I thought you liked it," I blurt out.

"You know I fucking do," he answers gruffly. Gripping both of my thighs for leverage, he pumps into me even faster. After another minute he tries again. "Where are you?"

Eyes still shut tightly, I shake my head. "I don't know," I answer breathily. "I don't care."

"Jesus, I'm so close," he says, thrusting harder into me as he slides his fingers to my clit and rubs in quick, tight circles. I was close, too, so it only takes a couple of strokes before my back arches and I huskily call his name. I feel him jerk in response and hold himself still, pressed all the way inside me.

A moment later, he turns his head and kisses my calf and ankle as he gently removes my shoe and tosses it to the floor behind him before gently lowering my leg back to the bed. He reaches for my other foot and discards that shoe, too, then lowers his still-sweaty chest to mine. I slide my arms around his back and tug, trying to let him know that I want his weight on me.

"I'm too heavy for you, baby," he whispers, pressing his lips to mine.

"Just for a minute," I plead, sighing contentedly into his mouth when he acquiesces. After a few minutes, he pulls back and suggests we move to lay the right way in the bed, claiming that he'll fall asleep and suffocate me if he doesn't move now.

We settle on our sides facing each other, our faces close together. He reaches a hand over to rest against my neck and leans forward to kiss me once. Then he rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes. I hear him swallow before he speaks.

"Bella, no one else has ever known all my secrets," he whispers.

I pull my head back and his eyes snap open. "I won't tell anyone," I assert, raising my hand to grasp his forearm and looking at him intently.

He smiles softly at me. "I know, baby. That's not what I meant. I meant that I've never trusted anyone, talked to anyone, the way I do you," he says. Too choked up to respond, I simply nod my head and scoot closer to him, resting my head against his chest. I'm asleep before the tears on my cheeks have dried.

* * *

Saturday morning, Ned and I eat breakfast at the hotel's restaurant. We sit on the outdoor terrace drinking coffee when we're done, Edward looking over his presentation on his laptop while I read the newspaper. He glances over at me often, smiling or making a quick comment about something… nothing. I try not to interrupt him since he's working, but he beckons me closer several times, acting like he wants to show me something on the laptop and then kissing me instead. I pretend to fall for it every time, even though by the fourth time he does it, we're both laughing as we kiss.

When the conference begins, I watch Edward's presentation, smiling proudly without having to act at all. I knew he was smart, but he's also captivating in front of a crowd. He definitely puts my public speaking skills to shame. Jamie and Tanya are both in the room, but Edward made sure I had a seat in the front so I wouldn't have to look at either of them. Charlotte sits beside me and we sneak out when Edward's done after I blow him a kiss and give him a thumbs up. He winks back at me, smiling.

Charlotte and I go for a walk on the beach and then sit in the sun while we wait for the conference to end. I like her very much and feel kind of bad that Edward and I are deceiving her and Peter… especially when she invites me to come visit them in Chicago in October – with Edward.

"Please, Bella. It will be so much more fun if you come," she pleads. "Usually Edward and Peter retell the same college stories over and over. You have to save me!" She pauses to laugh and grasp my hand. "Plus, Edward seems so happy around you. It's really nice to see him like this."

"Thanks, Charlotte. I… we'll see. I'm not even sure he'll want me to come," I hedge. "October is a really busy month for me anyway."

"Oh, right. Everybody knows October is notoriously busy for ad agencies. Kind of like April for accountants, huh?" she deadpans, knowing that I'm being noncommittal on purpose. We laugh together and trade contact information so we can keep in touch. I promise to think about Chicago.

* * *

Just after two o'clock, the conference wraps up. Edward and Peter want to charter a boat and cruise around for the afternoon. Charlotte and I excitedly agree, eager to spend the afternoon in the sun with the guys. We have a great time and Charlotte takes pictures all afternoon, promising to email them to me when she gets home.

When we get back to the docks after sunset, we're all tired so we skip dinner and go straight back to the hotel. Since our flight is early on Sunday, Charlotte and I hug goodbye in the lobby.

"It seems silly to say I'll miss you, but, Bella, I will," she says with a giggle.

"I know it's silly, but I'll miss you, too," I answer, as we continue hugging and swaying back and forth.

"I wish you could see the guys. They're looking at us like we're fucking nuts," she whispers and we both laugh loudly. I turn my head slightly, but can't see either of the guys standing a few feet behind me. "Think about October, okay?"

"Okay," I answer. We let go, promising to keep in touch with email and phone calls, and Edward takes my hand to pull me toward the staircase.

"You all right, Stel?" he asks as we walk down the hallway toward our room. I haven't spoken since I let go of Charlotte.

"Yeah. I just really like her… well, them," I answer softly. When we get to the door, I lean my back against it and look up at Ned, blocking the handle so he can't unlock it. "Don't tell them, okay? I mean, later. Please don't tell them it was all pretend," I beg, embarrassed that my eyes are tear-filled, my voice strained.

In an instant, his arms are around me and I'm crying quietly into his chest. I feel his lips press several kisses in my hair.

"I won't tell them, Stella," he says, rubbing my back gently. He unlocks the door and leads me inside, then sits on the bench at the end of the bed and pulls me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me.

"Shh, baby. It's okay," he murmurs.

"I know. I'm sorry. I think I have sunstroke or something," I mumble, finally getting my emotions under control. He chuckles into my hair and kisses my forehead.

"It's been an eventful weekend, yeah?" he muses. I nod against his chest. "But, Bella, it's been a really good weekend. I've had a great time with you and I'm so glad you came with me."

"Me, too," I sigh. "Thank you, Ned," I say, wrapping my arms around his neck to hug him. When I pull back to look in his eyes a minute later and then lean in to kiss him, I feel a twinge in my chest that I know isn't sunstroke… but I lose myself in the kiss, unwilling to dwell on the rising tide within.

* * *

I'm curled into Edward's side, snuggled up against him. He fell asleep fast tonight – usually I'm asleep first. But not tonight. Tonight I can't turn off my brain. It's going 100 miles an hour.

I flop onto my back and stare up at the ceiling of Ned's bedroom. Why can't I just fall asleep? Truthfully, it hasn't been a very eventful week. We've been back from San Diego for five days and have been together every night. Nothing big happened at work. Jasper and Emmett blew off our regular dinner to play golf and have dinner with some potential client.

Edward is leaving for Europe tomorrow night. Maybe that's what's bugging me. I knew this big overseas trip with Jack was coming up, knew they had meetings in Paris and London. He'll be gone seven nights… we haven't spent that many nights in a row apart since we met. That makes me sigh loudly.

I toss and turn a little, hoping Edward will wake up and wear me out so I can sleep, but he's really out. He fell asleep while I was still wearing pajamas – which never happens unless Riley's here, but she's not here tonight. Turning back onto my side, I stare at Edward for a while in the moonlight, trying to memorize every feature, learn every nuance of his face. I'm the sleeper around here, so I don't get this luxury of looking without him knowing very often.

At two-thirty, I decide to go drink some hot tea, hoping to lull my brain into shut-the-hell-up-it's-sleepy-time mode. After I'm settled on the couch downstairs, my legs covered with the blanket from the back of the couch and my feet propped on the coffee table, I sip my tea, looking out the window at the street.

My car isn't out there anymore. I park in the garage now when I stay here. On the front porch are planters that I planted flowers in, the porch swing that I helped Ned pick out. Out back, Riley's playhouse has dishes and play food that I bought for her and that she and I play with when she comes over. I've given her baths, let her do makeovers on me, played dress up with her, and gotten comfortable snuggling on the couch with her. I smile every time I think of her.

"Stel? What are you doing?" Edward asks sleepily from the stair landing behind me.

"I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to wake you," I say, turning my head as he approaches me from behind. I hear the quiet scrape of his fingernails against skin and know he's scratching his belly the way he does every time he wakes up. I stretch, he scratches. I smile as he comes into my field of vision and confirms what I thought.

"Can I sit with you?" he asks.

"Of course," I say. He sits down a little way away from me and lays down, resting his head in my lap.

"Is this okay?"

"Absolutely, Ned," I say, smiling down at him and immediately putting my hands on him. I rest one hand on his chest and tangle the other in his hair, running my fingers through it slowly, gently. He closes his eyes, smiling too, and I turn to look out the window again.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks after a few minutes.

I shrug even though his eyes are still closed. "A bunch of stuff. Riley."

He chuckles. "Why her?"

"I love her."

"I know you do. She loves you, too," he says, reaching a hand up to grasp the hand I have resting on his chest. He intertwines our fingers and squeezes gently.

"It snuck up on me, you know? She just plopped herself into my heart the same way she plopped herself into my lap the first day I met her," I say, smiling at the memory.

He laughs before he answers me. "She's that way. Does it bother you?"

"No… no. It bothers me that I'm 26 years old and never knew that I like kids. I never thought I would want any – and I was always okay with that." I gnaw a little on my bottom lip, suddenly nervous, knowing something big is brewing in my chest.

"And now you want them?" he asks, sounding surprised.

"I don't know. Maybe. Now I feel like I have options that I didn't before," I say honestly.

"Bella, you'll be a great mom if you ever decide to be one," he says, opening his eyes and tipping his head back to look up at me.

"Thanks, Ned," I say, smiling softly down at him. He closes his eyes again, smiling, and I turn back toward the window. Several minutes pass with neither of us talking as I continue idly fingering his hair.

I look back down at him. I barely contain the big sigh as I finally admit to myself why I can't sleep: him. Riley's not the only one who snuck up on me. My friendly affection for Ned is now not so friend-ly. It's more.

"Edward?" I whisper, hoping not to wake him if he's asleep.

"Hmmm?" he says sleepily, raising his eyebrows partway but not opening his eyes.

"Do you remember that first night – the night we met?"

"Vividly," he murmurs, his lips curling into an amused smirk.

I chuckle quietly. "Remember when you asked me if meeting you was a good thing or a bad thing?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes. You told me you'd let me know," he replies.

"I'm ready to let you know," I say.

"Okay. Shoot," he says, laughing lightly.

I silently blow out a shaky breath. "Edward Cullen, meeting you is one of the best things that's ever happened to me," I say softly, struggling to get the words out without releasing the sobs that want to come out, but unable to stop my voice from breaking slightly at the end. Edward opens his eyes and looks up at me, then squeezes the hand he's holding and pulls it to his lips to brush his lips over my palm.

Edward sits up and untangles the blanket from around my legs, removing it and tossing it to the other side of him. He scoots closer to me and then leans in to kiss me. He pulls back far enough to look into my eyes as he speaks.

"Isabella Swan, meeting you is absolutely the best thing that's ever happened to me," he says quietly, making me smile. He smiles against my lips as he leans back in to kiss me again. "I want you. I want you slow and sweet and until the sun comes up. Come back to bed?" I nod and he stands, offering me his hand and pulling me up.

* * *

Much later, when Edward's room begins to brighten at sunrise, we lie facing each other, both of us smiling sleepily as I arrange the sheet and comforter over us. Several minutes ago, I agreed with Edward's assessment that we got a lot of exercise overnight and we don't need our regular Saturday morning run. I force my eyes to remain open after his slide closed so I can study him for another minute. Lazily, I let my eyes rove over his hair, his face, his neck, his shoulders. I reach my hand over to gently cup the side of his face, stroking his cheekbone slowly with my thumb. He sighs contentedly, but doesn't open his eyes.

The tears I've held for several hours make their way down my cheeks at last as I look at him. I'm not sure exactly when this happened… I won't allow myself to dissect the last several weeks and try to pinpoint it. It doesn't matter anyway when it happened, just that it did. I know I can't tell him how I feel – he'll run away the same way he runs from every emotion that involves anyone except Alice and Riley. I know I'll go back to denying my feelings for him by the time I wake up later today because I also run from emotion that doesn't involve Jas and Em. But right now, in this moment, I can finally acknowledge the emotion I've pushed away for weeks: I'm in love with him.


	15. A Quickie, A Fight, and A WTF?

**A/N: So, I'm nervous as hell to post this... **

**I'm turning the big 4-0 next weekend and planning to drink my way in! I'm looking forward to the party and the next decade of life. :)**

**On we go...**

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* * *

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"I wish you weren't going. I'll be bored the whole week," I complain, sitting cross-legged on Edward's bed, placing the things he hands me into his open suitcase beside me. He's walking back and forth to the closet, pulling out suits, ties, shirts. He got most of his shirts boxed at the cleaners, but he asks me to fold the rest of his clothes for him. Maybe he thinks since I'm a girl, I'm automatically good at domestic chores. Joke's on him: I suck at folding guy stuff. His clothes will look like hell by the time he gets to France.

"You won't be bored. You're... going out... tonight... right?" he asks, but his voice sounds funny, distracted. I look up and see him staring at the way I'm folding his jacket… and frowning. "Uh, Stel, I think you might be wrinkling my suit," he says gently.

"I know. I'm totally bad at packing," I reply, starting to laugh. He laughs, too, and collapses to the bed next to me, lying down on his side and tugging on me until I lie down next to him, facing him. He kisses my lips and then my forehead before he rolls to his back and pulls me close to his side. He's still chuckling a little as I wrap my arm across his waist and rest my head on the right side of his chest.

"Will you text me random trivia while I'm gone?" he asks, one arm wrapped around my back and the other bent, supporting his head.

"Sure. Will you bring me a tacky Parisian souvenir to go with my key chains from Roslyn?"

"But of course, mademoiselle," he replies in a crappy French accent. We both chuckle quietly for a moment, then lie silently once our laughter dissolves, our bodies close together. I know we have to get up shortly – Jack's limo is picking Edward up in two hours to go to the airport and I'm leaving before that to meet Em and Jas for dinner. Sighing, I press myself closer to him, sliding my top leg over his legs, slipping my hand inside the front of his t-shirt. I let my fingers trace along his skin just above the waistband of his shorts, then up his ribs, finally coming to rest over his heart. I smile as I feel the slow, steady beat beneath my fingers.

"Can I put my hand up your shirt, too?" he asks teasingly after a minute. I lift my head to look up at him and see that he's smiling my favorite crooked smile at me.

"Sure, if you want to miss the red-eye from Seattle to London," I answer unhurriedly, feeling his heart thump faster under my hand.

"I can be quick," he murmurs, gliding his hand up and down my back.

As I stare into his eyes, they change from bright green and mischievous to dark and eager. My breaths become shallow and rapid while I continue looking at him. As soon as I begin to nod, he rolls us, hovering over me, his lips crashing into mine. His right hand snakes up the inside of my shirt, gliding along my waist, up my side, before covering my breast, his thumb slowly circling my nipple through the lace of my bra. I moan quietly into his mouth and slide my legs farther apart so Ned can settle his body in between. He moans back at me as he flexes his hips against mine.

Eager to feel his skin, I push his t-shirt up his back until he lifts his upper body and helps me pull it off. He tugs my shirt off, too, and goes right back to kissing my lips as I arch my back, pushing my chest against his.

Suddenly, he pulls his mouth away from mine and I open my eyes to find him staring down at me. He lifts one hand to my face, stroking his thumb along my cheek gently. I inhale deeply, smiling at him. He lowers his forehead to mine, continuing to caress my face as his eyes slide closed. Impatient, I reach my hands up to each side of his face and pull gently until he puts his lips on mine again, then kiss him passionately. He responds immediately, kissing me back as he grinds his hips against mine, and then trailing his mouth down my neck to my chest. When he reaches the top of my bra, he presses kisses all along the swell of my breasts while pulling the straps of my bra off my shoulders and down my arms until I'm uncovered.

I gasp and bury my hands in Edward's hair as he closes his mouth over one breast and his hand over the other. He rakes his tongue across my nipple twice and then sucks, pulling rhythmically on me. He moves to the other side after a moment, giving the same attention on my left side.

"Oh, God… Edward, please," I pant, moving my feet to his bare calves and stroking up and down from the hem of his shorts to his ankles.

Suddenly, his lips are back on mine, kissing me hungrily. "Yeah, baby? You need something?" he growls into my mouth between kisses.

In response, I whimper before I manage to answer him. "Just you," I finally whisper. He pauses to smile at me before working his way back down to my chest, using his hand and mouth to tease me for a moment, and then kissing down my stomach to the top of my jeans. He pushes himself off the side of the bed to stand between my legs as he unbuttons my jeans and pulls them off. I watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he pushes his own shorts and boxers off and then leans forward to kiss the top of my thigh as he hooks his fingers in the sides of my underwear.

Edward lifts his head to look at me as he slowly slides the scrap of black lace down my thighs. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asks quietly.

I shake my head at him, unsure what he means. He drops my panties to the floor and nudges my legs apart again. He bends down to kiss up the inside of my left thigh while he traces his fingers lightly up the inside of my right.

"Jesus, Ned," I pant, reaching for his hair with one hand. "We have no time for that now." That's a bit of a lie – he's always been very good at getting me to come very fast with that magic tongue. But right now I want him inside me.

He raises his head and smiles at me like he knows the truth – and he probably does – as he climbs back between my legs, resting on his elbows so that his face is above mine. "Stel," he says, his voice husky, "I want you all the time." He kisses me, his lips soft and gentle as they move against mine. He lifts his head again after a moment and commands hoarsely, "Look at me, Stel."

Slowly, I blink my eyes open to focus on his, smiling automatically when I see the desire, the affection in his eyes. I feel a rush of emotion flood my chest and I have to fight the urge to close my eyes – to hide my feelings from him.

He shifts his hips and pushes into me slowly, never looking away from me.

"Edward," I gasp, arching my back and pulling my legs up until my knees are pressing into either side of his ribcage.

"Fuck, Bella. I can't… go slow," he pants, sliding his eyes shut and pressing his lips to mine for an instant before starting to move in me.

"Please," I groan, wrapping my arms around his back as he moves up higher, so that I'm staring at his collar bone instead of his face. His thrusts are shallow and fast – his hips pressed so tightly against mine that he slides against my clit with every vigorous movement. It only takes a minute for the pleasure to build to a peak. "Oh, God… Ned… oh, my God," I cry out as a strong orgasm hits me, stilling my hips for a moment.

Before I have a chance to recover, Edward rolls us toward the center of the bed so that I'm on top. His suitcase is against my leg, pressing painfully into my skin, and I sit up to try and scoot it away. Trying to help me, Ned pushes it with his leg, succeeding in shoving it to the edge of the bed. I turn my head in time to see it starting to slide down to the floor.

"Wait! Your suitcase," I gasp, trying to twist around and grab it, but Edward won't loosen the grip he has on my waist. The bag falls to the carpet below with a soft thud.

"I'll get it later," he replies huskily. "I don't care if all my shit gets wrinkled right now."

Chuckling lightly, I turn back to look at him, placing my palms on the bed beside his head so I can lower my lips to his. He kisses me passionately for a minute, unhooking the bra that's still hanging from my ribcage and dropping it to the bed beside us. He slides his hands down to grip my hips, holding me against him as he pushes up into me.

"Jesus, Stel… please… you feel so good… please," he mutters against my lips, pleading with me to do more. I push up, resting my weight on my arms for a moment and then sitting all the way up. He reaches for my breasts as I slowly raise and lower myself a few times, gripping his forearms for balance. After a minute, he groans and shifts his hands back to my waist, trying to move me faster. Splaying my hands across his chest, I speed up, watching his face – his eyes are shut, his mouth gaping a little as he breathes raggedly. In that instant, I am so full of love for him that it's painful for me not to say it out loud.

His fingers dig into my skin as he comes, saying my name and grunting loudly, and I lower myself back to his sweat-dampened chest, kissing along his collarbone and up the side of his neck. He wraps his arms tightly around me as he catches his breath and I slide one hand up into his crazy hair, pulling it through my fingers gently.

"Stella... I don't want to leave you," he murmurs into my hair.

"You're just saying that because I'm naked," I tease, moving my lips to his ear and licking the shell teasingly. I giggle as he shudders involuntarily.

He laughs lightly, too, but argues with me. "It's not just that… although that doesn't hurt. But I… shit. I'll miss you," he says, sighing.

I lift my head up enough that I can look into his eyes. "I'll miss you, too, Ned," I say seriously, quietly, then press my lips to his. I put my head back down, snuggling into his neck for a few moments before I tell him that we have to get up.

"I know. Come shower with me?" he says, stroking his fingers up and down my back.

"Absolutely, Ned," I agree, lifting myself off him, off the bed. Smiling, I hold a hand out to him as he starts to sit up and he takes it immediately, letting me pull him up. He draws me into a hug when he's up and we stand still for a minute, holding each other tightly, before we head for the shower.

* * *

An hour later, he walks me out to my car – parked next to his in the garage – and puts my bag in the backseat for me. I've been leaving some stuff here, but since I won't be staying here all week, I take most of my things back home.

He opens the driver-side door for me and then opens the garage door while I start the car. I roll my window down and he leans down into the open window to kiss me.

"Have a good week, Stel," he says against my lips. "I'll text you... call you. But I don't know when… don't know how much free time I'll have."

"Okay. We'll talk when we can. Travel safe," I say, trying to sound casual, brushing my fingers across his where they rest on my windowsill.

As I back out, he stands in the garage, hands stuffed in his front pockets, smiling at me. When I reach the end of the driveway, he waves and then closes the garage door. I sit still, watching as he disappears from my view... his face, then his chest, and finally, his legs and bare feet. Teary-eyed, I wait until the door is completely shut before I pull out into the street.

* * *

As I'm driving to the restaurant, I struggle to get my shaky emotions under control… struggle to go back to ignoring the way I feel about Edward. Why am I having such a hard time pushing my feelings down today?

I sigh. Honestly, I haven't been ignoring the way I feel about Edward for the last several weeks... I've just refused to put a label on it. Last night I finally said it – only to myself and only in my head – but now that my brain knows it's allowed to think the word "love", that's all it's been thinking all day: love, love, love.

I swore I wouldn't let this happen again after Jake – I wouldn't let one man have so much sway over my emotions. I was determined to stay detached. That's why this thing with Ned seemed like such a good idea at first: I could have the hot sex with the hot guy without risking myself – without risking my heart. But now, whether I want it to be or not, my heart is large and in charge; it's taken the wheel and is speeding us straight toward eventual heartbreak.

So I wonder... if I could go back to the night Ned and I met, the next night when we made the agreement, would I make a different decision? Knowing what I know now, would I change my mind?

"No," I say out loud without meaning to. I wouldn't give up one minute of my time with Ned no matter how difficult it will be for me when it ends.

I allow a couple of tears to escape down my face and pick up the sweatshirt that's laying on my front passenger seat – Ned's sweatshirt. I snagged it before I left his house, asking him if I could borrow the sweatshirt he'd been wearing all day in case it gets chilly later while I'm still out with Jas and Em. Really, I just wanted to have something that smelled like him to sleep with while he's gone. I think he was on to me though because he winked at me as he took it off. And because he kissed me so sweetly when he draped it across my shoulders.

I park in the restaurant lot next to Jasper's car and take a big whiff of Edward's sweatshirt, smelling him... missing him already. I consider texting him, but it's only been twenty minutes since I saw him – that's a little too clingy. Resolving to pull myself together, I get out of my car and plaster a smile on my face as I walk into the restaurant to meet my boys.

"Baby Swan!" Emmett calls, turning to look at me from his seat at the bar and aiming his deep dimples my way. Jasper is sitting beside him; he turns to look at me, too, but turns back around without acknowledging me. I walk over to them and sit down on the stool in between them.

As we wait for our table, I sip my martini and listen to the tragic breakup tale of Emmett and Maggie, the waitress. It wasn't pretty.

"So I'm guessing we won't be eating at Ray's Steakhouse anymore?" I deadpan once  
Emmett's finished talking.

"Safe to say," he answers amusedly. "Unless you enjoy eating food that someone's hocked a loogie on."

"Ew, Emmett," I whine. "Jesus! When will you learn to keep it in your pants... or break up with her first?"

"When he falls in love," Jasper butts in. "If he loved her, he wouldn't have cheated." It's the first time he's spoken since I got here. He's in one of the foulest moods I've ever seen him in, but when I raise my eyebrows at Em and point toward Jas, Em shakes his head and mouths "I'll tell you later" at me.

Emmett shrugs, not embarrassed at all for acting like a mimbo. "Maybe... maybe not. I don't think that's a hard and fast rule," Emmett remarks.

"It was true for me," I mumble, disagreeing. "If Jake loved me the way I loved him, he wouldn't have cheated."

"You didn't love him, Baby Swan," Jasper says grumpily, pausing before he finishes. "Not enough to marry him, anyway." Slowly, I turn my head to look at him, glaring at him in the way that he knows means he needs to shut the hell up. He shrugs at me, but doesn't retract the comment. I turn back to Emmett and roll my eyes, then pick up my drink and finish it.

As usual, Emmett grows restless when Jas and I aren't getting along well, so he tries to fill the ensuing silence with funny stories. I try to pay attention, but I'm bugged by Jasper's comment and his attitude. When Emmett gives up for the moment, striking up a conversation with the bartender about the Mariners, I turn to look at Jasper. He's staring into his drink, not paying any attention to me or to Emmett.

"Jas? You okay?" I ask cautiously, reaching my hand over to squeeze his bicep gently. When he turns his head to look at me, the expression on his face is so sad that I want to cry. I wonder what happened to him. He was fine at the office yesterday. I'll have to corner Emmett and find out what's going on.

"Yeah," he says, then sighs. He looks like he wants to say more, but the hostess comes to get us then, saying our table is ready. She flirts openly with both of the guys, giggling too loudly, touching both of them as we're seated. She glances at me several times – I assume trying to tell which one of the boys I'm with. Several months ago, I would have pretended to be with both of them just to screw with her, but the idea doesn't appeal to me now. I don't like the idea of someone – even a stranger – thinking I'm interested in anyone but Edward.

Once we're seated, Jasper breaks out of his funk a little and actually joins in the conversation at the table. Something's still off with him, but he acts more normal as we eat – and as he downs his second tall glass of Irish. As we're finishing dinner, my phone buzzes on top of the table. I grab it quickly, suspecting it's a text from Edward. I'm right.

***Stel, just boarded plane. Thinking of you.**

Simultaneously, my face breaks into a smile and tears pool in my eyes. I quickly respond that I'm thinking of him, too, hoping he gets the text before he has to turn his phone off. I sniffle then look up, suddenly realizing that Emmett and Jasper's conversation has stopped. They're both looking at me.

"What?" I ask, looking from Jasper to Emmett and back.

"Oh shit, Baby Swan," Jasper says, shaking his head. "We've got a problem, don't we, sugar?"

"No," I lie, my tone childishly defiant. "There's no problem. I was just telling him goodbye. He'll be flying all night."

Emmett and Jasper exchange a look that tells me they realize my feelings for Ned run deeper than I've let on.

"You might as well tell us. You know we'll drag it out of you," Jasper says lowly, looking intently at me.

I shrug and pick up my martini glass, draining the last bit. "Nothing to tell. I probably won't talk to him until he gets back next weekend anyway," I say. Oh crap… I think I sounded way more whiny than I intended when I said that. Jasper shakes his head at me sympathetically.

"Well, there's only one cure for what's ailing her," Emmett chimes in, tossing his napkin onto the table and fixing his gaze first on Jasper and then on me. "Let's go get plowed."

* * *

We've been at Jasper's favorite sports bar for a couple of hours when he comes at me again. Until now, he's let me drink, throw darts, talk and laugh about stuff that doesn't matter. But now he wants to have a real conversation – since I'm tipsy enough to reveal more than I'd like.

"What the hell are you doing, Baby Swan?" he asks quietly, leaning across the pub table toward me and trying to will me to answer truthfully with his blue-eyed stare.

"I'm getting drunk with my best friends. What are _you _doing?" I ask snarkily. I know what he's doing... he's challenging me to a draw... pistols at high noon... it's the showdown I've been dreading. Jasper's kinda drunk and so am I; this probably won't end well.

"I'm watching _my _best friend screw up the best relationship she's ever had by refusing to admit that she's even _in_ one," he replies, sitting back up. He's snotty, too.

"Edward and I are friends, Jasper. Quit trying to make it something it's not," I argue, trying to communicate how unwilling I am to discuss this with my clipped tone.

"You're fucking teary-eyed that he's going out of town. You're with him every goddamned night. You've met his family," he says, getting right in my face again and ticking off the points on his thumb and first two fingers.

"I've met your family, too," I point out, holding up a finger of my own... not my index finger though.

"Yeah, after we'd known each other two years," he asserts, unaffected by my rude gesture. He holds up his ring finger. "You babysit his niece with him and even like the kid. You've been out of town with him twice –."

"Three times," I correct him, then cover my mouth with my right hand before it can betray me again.

He extends his pinky and puts his hand in my face. "See? Five things that prove you're in love with him," he says.

I smack his hand away and pick up my beer, stalling for time as I try to think of a comeback. It's doesn't work... either I'm too tipsy or what he's said is too true. Or maybe both.

I sigh heavily, then try to gain his sympathy so he'll back off. "Jasper, I'm not ready. You both saw what I was like after Jake – I mean, shit… you guys basically put me back together. And not all the pieces of Bella went back how they used to be."

"You know who you sound like? Your dad. He hasn't been ready since your mom left him twenty-five years ago. Is that how you want to end up? Alone?" he says harshly. He's trying a new strategy now: bad cop.

"I won't be alone. I'll have you two idiots," I retort, trying to lighten the mood.

Jasper turns to Emmett. "Are you going to say anything here?" he demands.

"You seem to be doing fine on your own," Emmett mutters. He looks like he might be a little pissed at Jas for picking this fight with me.

"Just admit it to me, Baby Swan. You're in love with him," he asserts.

I decide to sass him, hoping to pull us out of this emotional conversation. "Fine. I'm in love... with screwing him," I reply, starting to giggle. I wink over at Emmett on the other side of the table and can tell by the way his dimples are showing that he's holding his laughter in. I look back toward Jasper... then wish I hadn't. He's pissed.

"Jesus fucking Christ! How long are you going to continue to let Jake control you? You're letting him keep you out of this relationship the same way he kept you _in_ the relationship with him… with fear," he asks, his eyes dark and stormy. I don't remember the last time I saw Jas this angry.

Finally! There's something I'll agree with him about. "You're right about the fear part, Jas. I'm fucking scared to death that I'll get my heart broken again by someone who doesn't love me back," I argue vehemently.

"You can't live like that forever. Rip off the goddamned band-aid and let yourself feel it." Oh, Jas, if you only knew.

"Oh, I've _felt_ it," I reply suggestively, trying to be funny again… trying to avoid my feelings again. Laughing, I turn to look at Emmett, but he's not amused by me this time.

"Bell, don't make me get mad at you, too," he says gently, leveling his gaze at me from across the table.

"Jesus, you guys. Just leave me alone," I say through clenched teeth, afraid if I don't get angry with them they'll break me down and I'll end up crying in this bar. "_Please_ just leave me alone."

"Fine, Bella. I'll just leave you alone while you continue to shut down every part of yourself that made you such a completely fucking incredible woman," Jasper agrees quietly, his voice hard as steel. He stands up, kicking his stool back under the table and stalking off toward the men's room.

My bottom lip quivers as I watch him walk away. I sniffle as I wonder how this night deteriorated this far. We were having fun earlier… well, kind of. Except for Jasper's shitty mood, my weepiness and Emmett's discomfort around his grumpy and crying best friends. Jesus, except for the early morning and late afternoon sex, today has really blown the big one.

"Hey," Em says from across the table. I turn my teary eyes to him, but I can't smile even though he's shallow-dimpling at me. "It's not just you. It' partly you, but it's partly him. He had a big date last night…did he tell you?"

I shake my head, feeling even worse now. My best friend isn't even telling me what's going on with him anymore.

"He was really excited about this girl, Bell. It didn't go well… he hasn't given me a lot of specifics, but you know him. He's so intent on finding 'the one' that each time he meets a woman who isn't her, it depresses the hell out of him," Emmett explains. "He's taking his frustration about his own life out on you. He _wants_ to be married and have kids like... yesterday. Patience is not his thing." He laughs, and when I see he's deep-dimpling at me now, I smile back at him. Even though I knew most of what Em just told me, it's sweet that he's going out of his way to make me feel better about Jas yelling at me.

"I just wish he'd leave me alone about Edward," I mumble, looking away from Em and down toward my beer bottle. I begin to peel the label off in one big piece.

"It's hard for him – for both of us – to see you wasting what you have with Edward… cheapening it by refusing to acknowledge your feelings," he says. My eyes snap back to his. He holds a hand up to stop the tirade he probably thinks is coming. "Settle down. No lecture here. I'm just saying, it's obvious how you feel. I think you should tell Edward. I've seen the way he looks at you during our meetings at Hale – and I think there's a decent chance he feels something for you, too. You're pretty irresistible."

I shake my head slowly. "Em, Edward and I have an agreement. Romantic feelings aren't part of our relationship," I state quietly. "Jasper's the one who believes in all that soul-mate, happily-ever-after crap anyway… not me. Not anymore."

He shrugs. "Just think about it. Here comes the grouch," Em says lowly, dropping his eyes to the table in between us. "Don't tell him I told you about the date last night."

"Okay," I answer as Jasper reappears beside me, hooking his foot around the bottom of his stool to pull it out. He sits down, turning his body toward me, and reaches for one of my hands, pulling it toward him and holding it between both of his. I turn my head to look at him and smile back when he smiles apologetically at me. He leans over to kiss my cheek, whispering that he's sorry, then sits back up straight, still grasping my hand.

"Baby Swan, I need to meet Edward," Jasper insists gently.

"Absolutely not. No way," I reply firmly.

"Darlin'," he begins, "he's important to you?" I nod. "I'll be nice, I swear. Come on, we're going out on your birthday, right? Three weeks from tonight. Bring him."

"Jas," I whine, but I'm no match for his freaking blue puppy eyes. "All right. I'll bring him if he agrees. But as my birthday present, I want you to promise to be on your best Southern gentleman behavior."

Laughing, he hugs me, practically pulling me off my stool as he cradles me close to his chest. "I promise."

"Aww, group hug," Emmett calls, standing up and moving over to us to wrap both Jas and me in his mammoth arms.

We drop the subject after that, going back to our bar games and joking around as usual. I have a good time the rest of the night and stay out too late, celebrating the fact that Jas and I got through our showdown without drawing too much blood, at least for now.

* * *

Sunday morning, I keep my phone with me as I move around the apartment picking up, cleaning a little. I have Edward's itinerary, so I know when he lands in London. He and Jack have a short layover there before continuing on to Paris.

About fifteen minutes after he was supposed to land, my phone chimes.

***Hey, Stel. Made it across the pond. Rushing between planes. Where's my trivia?**

Smiling, giggling, I text him back immediately.

***Hi, Ned. Hmm… the word for having a fear of long words contains 36 letters.**

***That's definitely random. What's the word?**

***You're making that up**

***I am not! Trying to improve your vocab.**

***Miss your rambling already. Gotta go. I'll try to call you later.**

***OK. Have a good flight.**

**

* * *

**

Several hours later, he calls. He's settled in his hotel room in Paris.

"It's beautiful here, Stel. You should come sometime. _We_ should come sometime," he says excitedly. "I'm looking out over the Seine – I see why they call it the city of light."

"Ned, it's not called the city of light because of actual lights. You knew that, right?" I ask, but my brain is stuck on the part where he said we should go to Paris together.

"It's not?" he asks.

"No, although Paris was one of the first major cities to use street lights. It's called the city of light because Paris was one of the centers of activity during the Age of Enlightenment… 18th century," I explain.

"Huh. Bella, how do you know all this shit?" he says, sounding amused.

"I don't know. Too much _Jeopardy_-watching during college, probably. I seem to have amazing powers of retention when it comes to useless knowledge," I laugh.

"Useful, baby. Useful knowledge," he says as he laughs, too. I hear him sigh. "I really do wish you were here to see this with me," he says quietly.

"Me, too," I reply. We're quiet for a few seconds, then Ned seems to snap out of his musing. We talk for several more minutes, and then hang up, promising to text or talk on Monday.

Just before I go to sleep Sunday night, I get another text from Edward.

***Hit me.**

I know what he wants.

***Betty Grable's legs were insured for $1 million in the 1930's.**

I laugh out loud when I read his reply.

***Maybe we should insure your spectacular ass.**

***Not worth that much.**

***It is to me. Missed kissing you goodnight.**

Oh, hell. I wasn't prepared for him to say something like that. My heart is racing as I respond.

***Me too. Kissing anyone in France?**

***No… why?**

***French kissing involves all 34 muscles of the face. Good exercise.**

***Waiting til I get home to work out. I'm not kissing Jack.**

***34 million women in France. **

***1 woman in Seattle.**

My heart jumps into overdrive this time, thrumming away in my chest and competing with the goofy grin on my face for cheesiest over-reaction to a text message. Still, I can't resist being cheeky.

***Who?**

***You, Stella.**

***Say it like Brando: Stellllaaaa. I gotta go to bed.**

***K. Night, Stellllaaaa.**

***Night, Ned.**

Smiling, I get into bed thinking about what Emmett said last night… maybe I will tell Edward how I feel when he returns – or at least that I feel something. Maybe there's a chance he does feel something more than friendship for me, too. Finally, I drift off to sleep and dream of walking the streets of Paris with Ned.

* * *

On Monday, I don't hear from Edward during the day. I know that he and Jack have several meetings and dinners to attend though, so I don't think much of it. But by Tuesday at noon, anxiety is rearing its head and tying my stomach in knots. I waffle between hoping nothing's wrong and reassuring myself that he's probably just busy.

Late Tuesday night, I look at Edward's itinerary for the hundredth time and chew on my bottom lip. He was supposed to fly to London late Tuesday night his time, so he should be waking up in London by now. I decide to text him… remind him I exist. I hope he's just been so busy that he hasn't had time to call me… or text me… because that takes a really long time.

Feeling sick to my stomach, I compose my text.

***Hey. Hope all is well in jolly old England. I miss you.**

I took out and re-added the part about missing him twenty times before I finally decided there was nothing wrong with saying it, especially since two days ago he was talking about the two of us going to Paris sometime and saying he missed kissing me. I wait up for a while, but Edward doesn't reply. I toss and turn, sporadically falling asleep for twenty or thirty minutes at a time and then waking up in a panic. Each time, I check my phone. Each time, I don't have a text, an email or a missed call. I have strange, muddled dreams about roaming the streets of Paris alone… searching for Edward. I don't find dream Edward before I wake to the buzz of my phone on the nightstand.

Groggily, I reach for the phone to read the message, hoping I'll see an apology, a "Stel", anything that will put my mind at ease. The text I read has none of those things.

***Bella, lots of meetings. Very little free time. Take care.**

My heart sinks as I read it, re-read it. I try to convince myself that it doesn't mean anything. Maybe he's just busy, distracted. I try not to worry about it, but when the rest of the week goes by with no further communication, I know something's up. Even on his busiest days, he's always taken a few minutes to call or text me.

The rest of the week crawls by – I want to talk to someone about Edward, but there's no one I can be completely honest with. Angela will say she told me so; Jessica and the other girls at work don't know about him; Em and Jas will kick his ass when he gets back if I tell them. Even Alice, who I really like, is off-limits. I'd never put her in between her brother and me or ask her to betray his confidence if she's heard from him.

I'm so desperate to talk to someone – anyone – that I briefly consider calling my mom. But I know she'd end up making this about herself in some way, so I decide against it. I survive the rest of the week on red wine and Alka Seltzer, hoping Edward will call when he returns Saturday night.

When Saturday night and Sunday pass with no word from him, I am resigned to what's happening. On Saturday, I add Pepto and ibuprofen to my wine and Alka Seltzer rotation. By late Sunday night, I'm helpless to continue the battle against the tears. I fought them as long as I could, but they're coming now whether I want them to or not.

Giving up, I lie on my bed, staring at the ceiling while letting the tears fall. I knew this day was coming, I just didn't think it would be so out of the blue. I figured there would be a period of waning desire first, but we were as desperate for each other as ever that last time… and it didn't _feel_ like the last time. I don't know what to think, what to do. Much later, I fall asleep – fully clothed, with the lights on, too despondent to care… to move.

* * *

Monday afternoon, I have a previously scheduled meeting with Jack concerning the next phase of the Hale ad campaign. Phase two doesn't begin until after Thanksgiving, but Jack wants to be briefed on the overall strategy, wants to give input on what he likes and doesn't like. Of course, when I agreed to this meeting two weeks ago, I didn't anticipate that I would be nauseated by the thought of sitting in the same room as Edward – he always attends these meetings, too. I contemplate asking Jack to come to my office instead, but ultimately decide that I won't let my relationship with Edward affect my work.

When I get to Hale Software, Jamie Hale is walking through the lobby. Fantastic. Another horrible surprise. My life is chock-full of them lately. He smiles widely as he approaches me and I try to smile in return.

"Bella," he says, holding out his hand for me to shake.

"Hi, Jamie. I didn't expect to see you here," I remark, trying to keep my tone pleasant. I shake his hand politely, hoping he can't sense my distrust and disgust through my skin. I study him more carefully than I have in the past, looking for any trace of Riley's sweet demeanor... I don't see it. Hair? Yes. Eyes? Yes. But the rest of Riley seems to be all Alice.

"I flew in yesterday to meet with Uncle Jack," he explains. "Are you here to see Cullen?"

"Actually, I have a meeting with Jack in five minutes," I reply, altogether ignoring the reference to Edward. I hear my phone buzz with a new email and gently pull my hand away from Jamie's to check it. He begins talking as I'm still rudely looking down at my phone screen.

"I'll take you up. I'm heading for the IT department and it's on the same floor," he offers. That gets my attention. Alone on the elevator with him... great. Feeling as if I don't have a choice, I smile and say thanks. He gestures for me to walk beside him toward the receptionist's desk and I wait anxiously as he tells her who I am and that he will escort me up to the eighth floor.

On the elevator, Jamie stands in the center while I scoot to lean against one of the side walls of the car. He tells me that he's hoping to be transferred back here to Seattle and that's why he's meeting with Jack this week. My thoughts immediately turn back to Alice and Riley, but I try to keep my face neutral. I ask what he does for Hale, hoping to steer him toward a topic that won't make me break out in a cold sweat.

As before, he's all too eager to talk about himself. "Our IT Security Manager was just lured away by another company, and I'd really like that position. It's similar to what I do in New York, but this would make me the company-wide manager instead of the regional office manager," he explains. I don't really care, but I nod along, happy that he's not asking me any questions about San Diego… or about Edward.

Thankfully, we part ways when we exit the elevator as I turn left toward Jack's office and Jamie goes right. When I reach Jack's office, his secretary, Emily, greets me and sends me right in.

"Jack?" I call, rapping my knuckles on his open door as I peek into his office.

"Bella," he says, smiling as he stands up to greet me. He meets me in front of his desk and kisses me on each cheek like he did at our last meeting. Edward told me last week that Mrs. Hale the fourth moved out of their big house and into a place on Mercer Island. I still don't think Jack has any designs on me though. "How are you?"

We exchange small talk for a few moments, then Alec comes in to say that Edward is stuck in a lunch meeting and won't be here. Thank God. Finally, a good surprise. Somewhat relieved by Edward's absence, I present the plan I've prepared for the second phase of the ad campaign. As Jack, Alec, and I go over the specifics, I loosen up somewhat, but I still don't feel like myself – I feel like my voice sounds funny and I'm breathing too fast. I get through it with no big problems though, and quickly make note of the changes Jack wants to make. When we're done, I leave Edward's copy of the plan with Alec and stand to go.

"Shall one of us walk you out, Bella?" Jack asks, looking up at me from his desk.

"That's not necessary, Jack. I know my way around here pretty well," I say, turning my lips upward into a smile even as I hope I don't run into any green-eyed assholes on my way out.

When I open the door to leave Jack's office, the green-eyed asshole is standing at Emily's desk, talking with her and Rosalie Hale. Of course. They all turn my way when they hear the door open. My eyes snap to Edward's face and I note with sadness that his eyes are cautious when they meet mine before darting to the doorway behind me.

"Waiting for Jack?" I ask brightly, leaving the fake smile in place. "He's all yours. Bye, Emily." I walk briskly past Edward and continue out into the hall, making a beeline straight for the elevator. I press the down button twice and am relieved when the elevator comes quickly.

As soon as the doors glide open, I step on and turn around, startled when Edward walks on right behind me. He waits until the doors slide closed before turning to me.

"Hey," he says, quietly.

"Hi," I answer. Cool and aloof – that's the tone I'm going for. I have a feeling that I sounded more churlish than indifferent though.

"Bella, I need to talk to you. Can I come by this evening?" he implores. His voice sounds scratchy, like he's upset, but I don't turn to look at him even though I can feel the heat of his eyes on me. I nod minutely, but still don't look at him. "I'll be there about six, okay?"

"Fine," I whisper curtly, still refusing to turn toward him. I hear him sigh heavily as the elevator doors open on his floor and he steps out, mumbling a goodbye.

Fuck. I swallow furiously, trying to keep the emotion down. The tears, though, well in my eyes and threaten to spill over. I really don't need him to come over tonight. I know what this is... it's the end of our agreement.

* * *

As soon as I get home from work, I change into yoga pants and a tank top, then pull a hoodie on and zip it up. No need to try and look good for Edward tonight. I pick up his sweatshirt, which I washed his smell off of days ago, and his extra phone charger. I think those are the only things I have that belong to him. Barefoot, I walk to the living room and toss them onto the coffee table, then go to the kitchen and get myself a beer. I take one big drink as I pad back to the living room and settle into the corner of the couch to wait for him.

I knew I wouldn't have anything long-term with Edward. I knew he wasn't really mine. So I'm not really _shocked _that it's over; I'm only shocked about the way he's going about it. I thought we were so close, I didn't imagine that he would stop so suddenly, not try to salvage the friendship. I make a solemn promise to myself that I will not cry in front of him.

When he knocks at my door promptly at six, I get up from my spot on the couch and carry my half-drunk beer to the door with me, my legs feeling heavier, more difficult to move, with each step. He looks nervous when I study him momentarily through the peephole. At last, I open the door and stand back to swing it wide, allowing him to come inside without touching me.

He swallows audibly before he speaks. "Hi. Thanks for letting me stop by." Stop by. Nice hint, Ned, but I already got the picture.

"No problem, Edward. Would you like a drink?" I ask politely. Jesus, this is so not us. We weren't even this stilted with each other on the day we met. Since that first night, we've been comfortable around each other, comfortable in each other's space. He asks for a beer, so I walk to the kitchen to get him one.

I open the refrigerator and take one bottle out of the six-pack of his favorite imported beer that I bought last week – before I knew he wouldn't be sticking around to drink it. I grab the bottle opener from the drawer and pop the top off, then pause for a moment to close my eyes and shake my head. I can't believe this. I swallow the emotion building in my throat and take a deep breath as I pick up our beers from the counter.

When I get back to the living room, he's settled on the couch, the ankle of one leg crossed over the knee of the other, his foot wiggling rapidly up and down. He's also drumming his fingers impatiently on the arm of the couch until he takes the beer from my outstretched hand. He says thank you, but doesn't look up at me… he hasn't looked me in the eye since he arrived.

I choose the chair farthest away from him and sit down, pulling my bare feet up onto the chair and bringing my knees to my chest so I'm curled into a ball. I force myself to continue looking at him expectantly even though he's not looking at me. I know he can feel my eyes on him the same way I can feel his when they're on me.

He takes a long pull from his beer and then finally looks over at me. "Bella, a lot of stuff happened in Europe," he begins. Fuck, I forgot how beautiful his bright green eyes are when they're resting on me. They're guarded tonight, which isn't that unusual. But I haven't thought he was guarding against me since the weekend at the cabin. Tonight he definitely is.

"Clearly," I say flatly, my heart pounding. I drop my eyes to my beer bottle, held between my knees, and begin to peel at the label.

"Jack found out that you were in San Diego with me. He... wasn't exactly happy about it. He'd rather we didn't see each other socially," Edward explains. His voice sounds throaty and uneven.

I frown before I can stop myself. Jack? This is Jack's doing? That's weird. I didn't get any disapproving vibe from him today when I saw him. Maybe he didn't want to embarrass me. I try to relax my brow before I answer Edward. I have been steeling myself for this conversation for days and have practiced my reaction in my head a hundred times.

"Okay," I answer evenly, no inflection in my tone. "Um, your stuff is there on the table. I think I left a few things at your place that last weekend. Can you set them on the porch or drop them by here for me?" I ask, still not looking up from my label-picking.

"Stella?" he chokes. "You want to call off our agreement?" he asks anxiously.

My eyes flash to his. "Jesus, Edward. Don't _you_? You quit calling me, texting me. You didn't even call when you got back from being halfway across the freaking world," I spit, my temper flaring. "What the hell was I supposed to think?" Shit, I wasn't going to react with an impassioned outburst… like a scorned lover, even though that's what I am, I guess. I immediately try to rein myself back in, will my breathing to slow, my hands to stop shaking.

"Oh, God, Stel… I'm so sorry. I just didn't know what to do... how to tell you all this. And I couldn't use my cell to get in touch with you after I told Jack we weren't really dating – it's a company phone," he explains earnestly, his eyes alive for the first time today, burning into mine now, all defenses gone for the moment.

"There are other phones in Europe, Edward," I remark. Forcing my eyes away from the intensity of his gaze, I look back down at my beer.

"I know. I'm sorry. I was so caught off-guard... I just didn't... I just panicked," he explains.

We sit in silence for a minute. I hear the glug, glug of liquid as he drinks more of his beer.

"So what exactly does this mean, Edward?" I ask, breaking the silence, but refusing to look at him.

"We can't be seen out together. No dinners or movies or anything. I... God... I don't want to stop _this_," he says emphatically, causing me to look up at him in time to see his hand gesture between us, "but I'll understand if you do."

I shrug noncommittally and he shifts around, moving his jiggly foot to the floor. He leans forward, looking at the floor, propping his elbows on his legs and letting his hands hang down between his knees, one hand carelessly holding his beer bottle by the long neck. I watch as he swings it back and forth lightly.

I'm not sure what I want right now. I'm stung, both by Edward and by Jack. I thought Jack liked me. Why would he have a problem with Edward and me seeing each other outside of the office? It doesn't make sense. And why would Edward let him? We're not compromising anything by being friends.

"I don't know what to say, Edward. We've …I thought… fuck. I don't know," I stammer, having a difficult time putting my complex feelings into words that explain what I mean… but don't reveal how I really feel, don't disclose what I now know I can't tell him.

I look at him again, really paying attention to his appearance. He's as handsome as ever even though his face is drawn tight. He pulls his free hand through the top of his hair roughly before dropping it back between his legs. He's definitely upset. Immediately, I want to go to him, comfort him.

"Maybe we should just stop, Edward. I don't want to jeopardize the company I work for and I'm sure you don't want to gamble with your job either. We've had a good run, you know, as far as what we intended at the beginning," I say slowly, forcing myself to continue looking at him. His eyes dart to my face immediately.

He looks stricken, pain evident at last in his green eyes, but he nods in agreement. "If that's what you want," he concedes quietly. At least I can see that he cares what my decision is now.

"It's _not_ what I want, but what choice do we have?" I ask, knowing I sound melodramatic, but helpless to contain the rush of hysteria rising inside. Tears pool in my eyes.

"We can be discreet. We can see each other at my place or here. We just can't go out in public," he insists. He puts his beer down on the coffee table and scoots to the end of the couch nearer my chair. He reaches a hand out to me and I can't stop myself from placing my hand in his. It's the first time we've touched in ten days and my body reacts immediately – just like always. His touch imparts heat, desire, comfort.

"Edward, this just feels …bad," I whisper, closing my eyes for a moment and swallowing.

"I know," he agrees. "It feels bad to me, too. I'm just not sure what else to do… at least for now."

I open my eyes to look at him again. "I need to think about it. Even though we're just friends, this makes me feel… almost sleazy, Edward. Like it's a dirty secret… something to be ashamed of," I say quietly, feeling one tear overflow and slide down my cheek.

He squeezes my hand almost painfully. "I hope you know I don't feel that way about you, about what we have. Christ, Bella, you're one of the best friends I've ever had. Everything with you has been… perfect."

We continue to look at each other for a minute and then I pull my hand away from his and shift my eyes back to the beer that's now grown warm between my knees. I don't bother to wipe away the wetness on my cheek.

He sighs heavily. "Well, I'm going to go get a personal cell phone. I'll text you with the number… so you'll have it if you want to get in touch with me. You can always call me at the house, too," he says. He stands up, bending down to kiss the top of my head as he passes me.

Fuck. I don't know what to do. If I choose to continue with him, this is all we'll have. Time here or at his house and sex. No more taking Riley for pizza at Zeppi's. No more walks by the lake. No more breakfasts or dinners out. Can I be happy that way with Ned? I'm not sure.

But can I be happy at all without him?

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him reaching for the doorknob.

"Wait," I say quietly… sounding desperate even to myself. I stand up from my chair, holding my beer in my right hand. I turn toward him, my eyes teary all over again. "Don't go. I can't let you go."

He's in front of me, wrapping his arms around me before I even finish my sentence. "Oh, God. Stel, I'm so sorry. I'll fix this... I'll fix this," he murmurs against the side of my head, his arms tight around me, trapping my arms at my sides. "Just give me a little time. Please. I promise I'll make this up to you… I promise."

I nod against his head, blowing out a big breath and wrapping my left arm around him. "Okay, Ned. It's okay," I say, finally trying to comfort him as I've wanted to for several minutes.

He begins placing kisses in my hair, working his way toward my face…across my cheek and finally to my lips. Edward sighs and I whimper quietly when our lips finally meet, gently at first and then more urgently. After a minute, I pull away.

"I thought you were going to get a phone," I say, looking up at him.

"I am. I'll go," he answers, looking sadly down at me.

"Come back when you're done?"

"Yeah, Stel. I'll come back," he replies, smiling crookedly at me at last. He kisses me quickly and leaves, turning to wave at me as he walks down the hall.

After I shut and lock the door, I sink sideways into the chair I was sitting in earlier. I blow out a big breath, thinking about this new twist to the arrangement Ned and I have. It's not like we go on a lot of "dates", but we always had the freedom to catch a movie or eat dinner out if we wanted to. There's something about knowing we _can't_ go out that makes this whole thing feel rotten.

But he said he'll fix it, so I'll give him a chance… because I wasn't lying – I can't let him go. Not yet.

* * *

**A/N #2: The bumpiness begins... :( Necessary, but still makes my stomach hurt posting it. **

**I'm hoping to get one more chap done before my disco partay... hey, I'm a child of the 70's, what can I say? There will also be Duran Duran, Rick Springfield and Prince, of course. I also survived the 80's, crimped hair and fingerless gloves intact. :)**

**Have a happy week and pretty please review!**


	16. I Hate Liars

**A/N: I don't own Twilight. **

**I do own a common cold and have lost my voice, much to the amusement/delight of my family. I'm sure I caught it because I was bragging on Saturday (at my 40th birthday party! yay!) about how I haven't had a cold all winter. Oh, Karma, you're a vengeful bitch. ;) **

**Thanks for all the favorites/alerts/reviews! **

**Here we go...**

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**I Hate Liars (But Sometimes Honesty Sucks, Too)**

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Strange is the best way to describe the next couple of days. On the surface, everything seems fine. Edward is attentive… texting me often from his new phone, bringing dinner to my apartment each evening and basically refusing to leave. But we're not close like before. We are painfully tentative around each other. Our conversations are shallow and we steer clear of any topics that would be difficult for us. In general, the Hales seem to be off-limits; neither of us brings any of them up at all.

Physically, the same odd uncertainty hangs in the air between us. When we sit on the couch together, it's chastely… near each other – not next to each other, limbs intertwined like we used to. We kiss, but there are no deep kisses, just pecks on the lips or the cheek. We hug, but not in that bodies-pressed-together way that lovers use to communicate their affection… their desire. He spends the night every night, but doesn't touch me except to hold me in his arms… _and_ we both keep our clothes on. We haven't had sex since the day he left for Europe. Strange.

By Thursday afternoon, I've had enough.

I text Ned and tell him that I'll cook dinner tonight. I go home a little early and change into short shorts and a clingy t-shirt – with nothing underneath it.

As soon as I let Edward in my door thirty minutes later, I pull him into a tight hug. He looks at me cautiously when he pulls away, backing toward the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine. While he opens the bottle and pours each of us a glass, I get back to making dinner. I stand at the stove and he leans against the counter a couple of feet away, nervously cracking jokes and picking bites out of the pan with his fingers even though I keep threatening to whack him with my wooden spoon.

We both seem to relax a little as we eat and he offers to clean up the kitchen when we're done, knowing I have a little work to do. So while he washes dishes, I sit down with my laptop at the kitchen table to go over the presentation I'm making the next day for the city's tourism board. Edward finishes the kitchen while I'm still working and I see him sneak off toward the couch carrying a beer. Twenty minutes later, I wander into the living room and find him sitting on the couch, the beer cradled between his legs, watching a baseball game. He's such a boy.

Edward looks up and smiles at me as I walk toward him. He looks a little surprised when I stop in front of him, lean forward to brace my hands on his shoulders, and lower myself to straddle his legs instead of sitting next to him. Smiling slightly, I reach between us and grasp the neck of the beer bottle.

"Can I have a drink?" I ask innocently, keeping my gaze locked on his, tilting my head slightly to the side. When he nods, I drag the bottle up his crotch, deliberately grazing him, smiling when I see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. I raise the beer to my lips, glad that there's less than half left in the bottle. I tip it back and chug it all down, then hook one arm around his neck to anchor myself as I lean away, arching my back, to set the empty bottle on the coffee table behind me. He puts his hands on either side of my waist, supporting me.

"Teasing me, Stel?" he asks with a smile, his green eyes sparkling for the first time since he got back from Europe.

"Nope," I answer, sitting up again. "I'm trying to tempt you into fucking me."

He groans and moves his hands up to hold my face. He pulls me to him, kissing me – finally – the way I want him to. Our mouths crash together over and over, our tongues meeting, pulling apart, then coming back together. Minutes later, both of us are breathing hard as we pull apart to look at each other.

"Bella, Jesus, you tempt me every fucking minute. I just… I didn't want you to think that's the only reason I'm hanging around," he says, his earnest eyes searching mine. "I'm trying to prove that I value our friendship, too."

"Point taken. Value of friendship noted. Let's get on with the monogamous fucking, yeah?" I ask, smirking at him.

He grins at me. "Hell yeah," he answers, sitting up a little straighter and pulling my face to his again. I wrap one arm around his shoulders and sink my other hand into his hair as our mouths meet. I immediately plunge my tongue into his mouth, feeling the passion spike quickly after so many days of dormancy. Edward slides both hands up my shirt, cupping my bare breasts. Pulling his mouth away from mine, he lowers his head and puts his open mouth on me, flicking my nipple with his tongue through the thin material of my t-shirt. After a minute, he switches to the other side, wetting the t-shirt material on that side, too. I moan as I kiss the top of his head.

"I need to see," he mumbles as he jerks his mouth away, lifting the bottom of my shirt and pulling it off me hurriedly. He captures my lips with his for a moment before settling his mouth on my breasts again, leaning back against the couch and pulling me with him, sucking fiercely on me.

"Oh, God, Edward… I want you," I gasp.

He pulls his mouth away and looks up at me. "Bella… I want you, too. Let's go to bed," he says, grasping my hips to steady me as I stand up. I turn away, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hallway behind me. Halfway down the hall, he yanks on my hand, stopping my progress and sliding his other arm around my waist then up to cover a breast as he lowers his lips to my shoulder from behind.

"Ah… Jesus, Ned," I pant. He lets go of my hand and moves his hand to slide up my inner thigh and up the leg of my shorts. Roughly, he pushes my underwear to the side and strokes his fingers against me, circling my clit quickly a few times before shifting lower. He uses his fingers to circle outside slowly until I whimper. Then, finally, he plunges two fingers into me, holding them all the way inside as I feel my inner muscles clench around them, making us both groan.

"Fuck," he whispers, pulling his fingers out of me. He turns me and presses me up against the wall, kissing my lips feverishly as he moves both hands to the button of my shorts. Grabbing handfuls of his t-shirt, I push it up his chest and he releases me to tear it over his head and drop it to the floor. I pull the button-fly of his jeans undone, then reach my hand inside grasping him, stroking him as he inhales sharply. He places his palms on the wall on either side of my head, bracing himself as I increase my pace. His breathing becomes ragged as he kisses across my collar bone and up my neck. Finally, his lips land back on mine.

"I missed you," I breathe against his open mouth.

"Shit, Stel," he answers. "I missed you so fucking much." He grasps my forearm loosely, stilling the motion of my hand. Exhaling harshly, he pulls my hand away and leads me the rest of the way to the bedroom. He pushes his jeans and boxers off while I slide my shorts and underwear down my legs, then climb onto the bed and hold a hand out toward him. Edward takes my hand, smiling, and interlocks our fingers.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, lowering himself to the bed in between my legs. I use my other hand to cup the side of his face, smiling up at him as he pushes inside me so slowly that my moan turns into a whimper.

"Oh, God… Ned," I say, closing my eyes to hide the tears that I don't want Edward to see.

"Stella," he breathes against my shoulder, holding still for several seconds before he starts to move. His thrusts are slow and deep at first, but eventually he picks up the pace and raises his upper body. I wrap my legs around him so I can move more forcefully against him, bucking my hips wildly as pleasure washes through me. Ned's hips meet mine each time and I feel him empty inside me just as I'm coming down. When he lowers his chest back to mine, we kiss softly as I hold him tightly with my arms and legs.

When we break apart several minutes later, we both settle on our sides, facing each other as Edward pulls the covers up around us.

"Bella, I know I hurt you last week. I'm sorry… I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice gruff with emotion. He leans forward to nibble at my lips, teasing them softly with his lips and tongue.

I nod, resting my hand against his chest. I know he's sorry, I just don't have anything else to say about it. I sigh deeply and snuggle into his chest, relieved at last to be back in my favorite sleeping spot: against a naked Edward.

* * *

Saturday night, Alice asks us to babysit. When Ned mentions it to me, I happily agree – I haven't seen Riley for a couple of weeks and I miss her. When they arrive at Edward's early Saturday evening, Riley grabs Edward's hand and drags him to the backyard to play soccer. I offer Alice a drink and we sit together at the kitchen table, each sipping a glass of wine and watching Edward and Riley play outside.

"Is something wrong between you and my brother?" she asks quietly, looking over at me.

"Um, no. Why?" I ask, feeling a little guilty for prying, but really wanting to know what tipped her off that things have changed. I look over at her, hoping she can't read me as well as she can Edward.

"He's acting weird. When he first got back from London, he was so grumpy that I thought you two must have broken up… or whatever, since you're 'just friends'," she says, air-quoting as she rolls her eyes. "But he wouldn't discuss it. Now, he's all nervous – he's been calling to check on us every night and nagging me to get my security system upgraded," she says, shrugging. Ah. I know what brought that on... James. Edward's just not telling her.

"Hmm. I don't know what to tell you, Ali," I hedge... because I really don't know what to tell her. Edward should tell her. She's gonna be ticked when she finds out he's been keeping the real reason for his overprotective behavior a secret. Ned's very big on secrets these days.

She tilts her head at me. "You look sad, Bella. You're sure everything's okay?" she asks.

"Everything's fine," I reply, forcing my lips into a smile. "You want to stay for dinner?" I ask to try and steer the conversation elsewhere as I stand up to get the steaks out of the refrigerator.

"No, thanks. I'm going out with a friend. Riley said you guys usually go to Zeppi's," she says. "You should make my brother take you girls out." She smiles over at me.

"No, we're staying in. I haven't been feeling that great," I lament. That part's true. My stomach is still almost constantly in knots. Things with Edward are better, but still weird. Jas has been bugging me about asking Edward to go out for my birthday – which I now know I can't do, but I'm too embarrassed to tell Jas why. It was one thing to be in love with Edward and not be able to tell him. It's another to be in love with him and feel like his dirty secret. Rationally, I know he doesn't feel that way, but it seems like he didn't even try to stand up to Jack about our friendship.

"You're not sick?" she asks with concern, then gasps. "Oh, my God! Are you pregnant?"

I laugh lightly at her outburst. "No, to both." I purposefully walk back to the table and pick up my glass of wine, taking a big drink right in front of her. "I've just been really busy at work. I'm tired and I asked if we could just hang out tonight."

Alice nods. We talk for a few more minutes and then she leaves. Riley and Ned come in to help with dinner – Ned wants to grill the steaks. I'm nervous that it will be another culinary disaster, but he does well. He's pretty smug about it, too. He's annoying and cute at the same time and I end up kissing him a little too enthusiastically in front of Riley, prompting her to declare us really gross.

Edward and I laugh all through dinner at Riley's stories about her first couple of weeks of Kindergarten. After we eat, they clean up the kitchen while I load the DVD player with a couple of Riley's favorite movies. When I walk back into the kitchen, Edward and Riley are arguing.

"_Uncle Edward, I want to eat ice cream_," Riley insists, her voice strong and sure. "Me and Bella always like a walk and an ice cream after dinner. Right, Bella?" She turns to look at me, leveling me with her bright blue eyes... daring me to contradict her. She's right. We do usually go for a walk after dinner when she's here... and the walk almost always takes us to the ice cream parlor in the village.

"Oh, sweetie. I'm so tired tonight. Maybe you and Uncle Edward should go without me this time," I suggest, swallowing the lump of emotion clogging my throat. I feel like throwing up. Riley argues a little, but finally gives in. Edward sends her to the bathroom before they leave and while she's out of the room, he comes straight toward me.

"Stella," he murmurs, cradling my face in his hands as he bends down to kiss me. I kiss him back, but for the first time I can remember, my heart's not in it. My heart's down the hall with the five-year-old who I can't go eat ice cream with. I manage to smile though as I send them off, saying I want to take a bubble bath anyway.

And I really do take a bath, crying big, silent tears the whole time.

When they get back, I take over care of Riley. I give her a bath and wash her hair, and then we watch a movie while we snuggle on the couch. Edward volunteers to do the bedtime stories, so I go to bed… and pretend to be asleep when he comes to bed an hour later. I'm facing away from his side of the bed, which isn't unusual. What is unusual is that he leaves me there, not pulling at me, not spooning me, not trying to get my pajamas off or trying to get his hands inside. I hear him sigh heavily twice before his breathing evens out into a steady rhythm. I lie awake for a long time, listening to him, loving him, aching for what is slowly slipping away from me.

At three o'clock, we get our regular wake-up call from Riley. I hear her come in, but am still in that not-asleep-but-not-really-awake haze as she climbs on my side of the bed. She heads for the spot in between Edward and me, kneeing me in the ribs twice as she clambers over the top of me. I let out an involuntary "oompf" and then an "ouch" as she plops down to the bed.

I feel the bed move as Edward shifts, hear him pulling the covers over her and getting her situated and I roll from my back to my side, opening my eyes and facing him in the semi-darkness. We always leave the hall light on when Riley's here, so I can make out his silhouette immediately and then his face after my eyes adjust a bit. His eyes are open, too, looking at me.

I hook an arm around Riley and pull her to my chest, kissing the top of her head and smiling in spite of my sadness. Edward scoots closer to us, lifting his hand to stroke down the side of my face and then cup my jaw.

"Stella, I'm so sorry," he says, his voice raspy with either sleep or emotion.

"I know," I whisper. And suddenly, I realize it's not enough that he's sorry. He should be doing something about it – and I'm not sure if he is or not. He leans forward and we kiss several times, mindful of Riley sleeping in between us. He pulls back when he moans quietly, but settles his head on the pillow as close to mine as he can get without squashing Riley. He slides his hand from my jaw down my arm to rest on my hip and he keeps it there for the rest of the night.

* * *

Edward makes a peace offering the next day... dinner out, but we have to drive out of the city – way out of the city… south side of Tacoma out of the city. I happily accept though because I'm tired of being stuck inside all the time. Edward finds us a really great restaurant, suggesting we eat somewhere nicer than the tavern I found online. So we dress up a little – I wear a dress and high-heeled boots and Edward wears gray pants and a black shirt. I also wear my lightweight leather jacket to ward off the chilly rain that's been falling intermittently today.

As we make the forty-five minute drive, Edward seems fine. I was afraid he'd be nervous about doing this, but he holds my hand across the console and smiles over at me often as I ramble about various subjects.

When we get to the restaurant, we are seated by the windows overlooking the water. Even though the day is gray and misty, it's still a pretty view. The sun is starting to set behind the clouds, tinting the sky a dusky purple hue. As we're eating our entrees, he looks over at me with a sly smile.

"Do you _have_ to work tomorrow?" he asks.

"Yeah. Why?" I reply, smiling at him... smiling at the fact that he's holding my hand across the table.

"Did you see that B & B we passed on the way here? I think we should stay there tonight and just skip work tomorrow," he suggests. His eyes are all lit up. "Please? How many vacation days have you even taken this year?"

"A bunch – all since I met you," I reply teasingly. "But I suppose one more won't hurt. I don't have anything on a deadline this week." I smile automatically when I see his lips morph into that lop-sided grin I love and he squeezes my hand across the table.

We continue talking easily through the rest of dinner and we order dessert to go... for later. This is the first night that feels normal, the first night that recaptures the feeling I had in San Diego and right after. I hope we've finally turned the corner and can stop being so oddly distant with each other now.

Edward calls ahead from the restaurant and reserves a room at the inn, and we drive straight there after dinner. The inn looks like it could have been lifted right from the Mediterranean with its white stucco exterior, arched windows and doorways and black tile roof. When we get inside, the innkeeper shows us around quickly, pointing out the authentic Italian floor tiles and antique furniture. Then she takes us up to what she says is their largest suite – and it's huge. Besides the enormous four-poster bed, the room has a small sitting area with a fireplace. There's a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket on the coffee table.

As Edward continues talking to the innkeeper – Gianna – I walk into the bathroom to look around. There's a small claw-foot tub and a huge shower. The bathroom is fully stocked with toiletries, including toothbrushes, and I wonder if Edward told her we were stopping unexpectedly. I glance into the mirror and note that for the first time since Edward left for Europe, I look happy.

I walk back out to the sitting room just as Edward is showing Gianna out. As soon as the door is shut and locked, he turns and walks to me.

"Dessert?" he asks, smiling at me. I look over to the coffee table where our dessert carton sits beside the champagne glasses. I shift my eyes back to Ned and shake my head.

"Later," I reply, taking his hands and pulling him with me as I back slowly toward the bed.

* * *

An hour later, we sit on the floor in front of the crackling fire, drinking champagne. Edward has boxers on, but I refused to get dressed, pulling the sheet from the bed instead and wrapping it around myself. Edward laughed at me when I almost fell down while trying to walk over here in my makeshift Egyptian cotton, 700 thread-count gown, then he picked me up and carried me the rest of the way as I laughed, too. Now I'm sitting sideways between his spread legs and he's feeding me raspberries from our dessert carton while I look longingly at the cheesecake underneath them. We didn't think to ask for a plastic fork. I know we could ask Gianna for one, but I don't want anything or anyone to disrupt the perfection of this night. For now, I welcome the isolation.

"How long are you gonna stare at the cheesecake, Stel?" he teases, kissing the side of my head.

"Not much longer," I respond, then stick my right index finger in the cheesecake, gathering some of the creamy filling. I lift my finger to my mouth and suck it off quickly, then go back for more.

He chuckles quietly. "That is the epitome of double-dipping," he says with amusement.

"Mmhmm," I agree, giggling and swallowing my second bite. I dip again. "Want some?"

"Absolutely," he says lowly, reaching for my hand with his and bringing it to his lips.

We spend the next few minutes feeding each other and kissing, then finish our champagne.

"I wish we could stay here all week," I sigh against his lips.

"Me, too, Stel. Maybe we can go away over the holidays," he answers, sliding his lips across my jaw and down my neck."

"Yeah, that would be nice," I say breathily. "What do you usually do for the holidays?"

He pulls his mouth away from my skin and looks at me. "Have an uncomfortable meal at Carlisle's. But Christmas morning with Riley is always good," he says, smiling a little when he talks about her. "You?"

I shrug. "It varies. Usually, I go to my dad's. Once in a great while I see my mom. I went to Texas with Jas once, but it's pretty loud there. His family is huge," I laugh.

"Maybe we can talk when it gets closer. I'd love to spend Christmas with you," he murmurs, lowering his head back to my neck.

"Yeah, we'll talk… but not right now," I say, gasping quietly as he licks his cold, champagne-chilled tongue up my neck.

"Not right now," he agrees, pressing his lips back to mine.

* * *

The rest of the week passes without much drama. Edward seems to get that it's bugging me to hide out and tries his best to distract me from the fact that we can't go anywhere together. He suggests we hang out with Ang and her boyfriend, Ben. They come over for dinner Wednesday night and then again on Friday to play games and watch movies.

When we play pop culture trivia, Ang and I team up against the boys. We kick their butts, laughing at how little they know. It's after midnight when they leave, and after I lock the door behind them, I turn around to see Edward sprawled on his back on the couch.

"Tired, Ned?" I ask.

"Nope. I'm trying to tempt you into fucking me," he says, stealing my line from last week. I laugh as he starts unbuttoning his shirt as I walk over to him. Grabbing my arm, he pulls until I lie down on top of him and I lower my lips to his as he rubs his hands across my back, then down to cup my ass. He pushes his hips up against mine… as if I couldn't already feel the bulge in his pants.

"Well, I can't ignore that hint, can I?" I say, giggling against his lips. "Come on, Ned. Let's go do dirty things that feel really good." I push off him and stand up, holding out my hand to pull him up, too.

"Want to play another game? Whatever I do to you, you do to me?" he asks. I look up at him, biting my lip, and nod. "All night long," he says, punctuating each word with a kiss.

Sounds good to me.

* * *

Saturday morning, I'm dozing lightly when I hear it.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

"What the fuck?" Edward mumbles. I blink my sleepy eyes open.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

"Is someone at your fucking door?" he asks grumpily. I stifle my laughter, but I'm amused that he's this grouchy. He's usually so chipper – too chipper – in the morning. And he's usually up before I am.

"Yeah. Ang texted me a little bit ago. She was running out for coffee so I had her pick up some for us," I say, rolling onto my stomach toward him so I can kiss him before I get up.

"Mother of God – what time is it?" he growls against my lips, reaching a hand up to cup the back of my head and hold it against his.

"It's eight something," I answer, feeling his lips curve upward into a smile as I try to pull away while he doesn't let me go. After two quick pecks, he finally releases me and I yawn as I roll over and start to get out my side of the bed. We didn't go to sleep until after three, so I'm still sleepy, too.

He reaches for me, pulling me back down to the bed and leaning over me. "Don't you dare move. You made promises last night, woman, that I intend to make sure you keep this morning," he says, seeming to snap out of his grumpy routine and kissing me once more. He scoots out his side of the bed, winking at me as he pulls on his jeans and shirt from last night. "I'll get the door." Still buttoning his shirt, he walks out of the bedroom, pulling the door partially shut behind him.

Giggling, I snuggle back into the pillows.

A minute later, I am confused when I hear another male voice answering Edward's in the living room. Frowning, I listen intently… it doesn't sound like Ben. Oh, holy Mary and all the fucking saints, why does that sound like my dad?

I scramble off the bed and pull on panties, jeans and a sweatshirt in record time. I grab a hair tie from the top of my dresser and hastily pull my ratty sex hair up into a messy bun. Hurriedly, I open the door to my bedroom and rush to the kitchen where I find Edward making coffee and my dad sitting at the counter, looking uncomfortable.

"Daddy! What are you doing here?" I ask, rushing around the counter to hug him. Oh, my God! Why didn't he call? And why do I always call him daddy when I think I might be in trouble?

"Bells, uh, sorry, Bella ….can't a man surprise his daughter to wish her happy birthday in person?" he retorts, squeezing me and kissing the side of my head.

"Of course. And I'm definitely surprised. You must have left Forks before dawn," I say, moving around to the other side of the counter to stand beside Edward.

"Yup. Left pretty early, all right," he replies, eyeing Edward warily.

"Dad, this is my friend, Edward Cullen. Edward, my dad, Charlie Swan," I say, trying to sound more confident and less mortified than I feel.

"Yeah, we met, Bells, uh, Bella, when he let me in," Charlie responds pointedly. I narrow my eyes at him until he smiles. I smile back at him then look up at Edward. He glances down at me, wrenching one side of his mouth upward, but not the other. Uh oh. He is not happy. I was a much better sport when Alice and Riley walked in on us counter humping all those months ago.

I start to chatter noisily as I grab three mugs from the cabinet and pour us coffee, which we drink while making small talk and pretending that we're not all embarrassed by this situation. Ten minutes later, Angela comes bursting through the door with the good coffee – one for me, one for Edward – and some pastries. She stays for a minute to say hello – she's met my dad before – and then leaves, barely able to contain her laughter. She backs toward my door, holding her thumb and pinkie up to her face like a phone and mouthing for me to call her. An eye roll is my only answer.

After several more awkward minutes, during which I ask way more questions about Forks than I'm interested in hearing the answers to, my dad says he's got plans to visit a couple of friends this morning. I know he has friends in Seattle, but I think he might be bullshitting us. I'd be willing to bet he was planning to spend the whole day with me. He seems to realize that I need time to regroup though. I also need to figure out what's wrong with Edward.

"I'll be back around noon. I'd like to take you to lunch. Edward, too, if you want," he says as I walk him to the door.

"Okay, Dad. I don't know if he'll come or not. He's just a friend, you know, like Jas," I reply, nodding.

He raises his eyebrows at me and clears his throat but doesn't make any other comment.

He hugs me goodbye and leaves. I shut the door behind him and turn around, expecting Edward to be in the kitchen or living room, but he's not. As I walk down the hall toward the bedroom, I can see him pacing back and forth in front of the bed in the still-dim room. I'm only one foot into the bedroom when he turns toward me and attacks.

"It's your birthday? Today? Why the hell didn't you tell me?" he asks, angry I think.

"What's the big deal? It's just another day," I mutter.

"So that's the big outing tonight – the reason you're going out with Jasper and Emmett and not seeing me. It's a fucking birthday party for you, and you didn't tell me," he says. Yup. Definitely angry.

"Edward, you're not my boyfriend –," I begin, only to be interrupted by the semi-asshole.

"But I am your friend. I would have liked to have known, at least," he says. "And your dad, catching me here at this hour… he must know I spent the night."

Hmm. Bare feet, wrinkled shirt and messy hair at 8:15 am? Yes, Ned, he most likely figured that out. I stifle an inappropriate giggle as he turns his back to me, stuffing his hands in his front pockets.

"Probably," I concede. "I'm sorry – I didn't think he was coming until dinnertime. He's not comfortable talking about this stuff though, so don't worry. He won't be asking your intentions or anything. Luckily for us since our intentions are to keep screwing each other until we're sick of it," I tease, trying for some levity.

He turns around and looks at me like a sad puppy. Fuck. Now I've hurt his goddamn feelings.

I roll my eyes at him. "That was a joke," I offer feebly. "Look, we're just going to dinner tonight, but you're welcome to join us if you'd like. Then Em and Jas are taking me to some nightclub downtown. I think my dad will head back home, but you're welcome to come then, too. In fact, Jas would like to meet you."

"Don't invite me just because I found out," he says sharply. The look in his eyes is so fiery – he's more angry than I realized. And it makes me a little mad, too, because I've had no reason to believe he would break his rule about us being seen out together in Seattle, but now he's mad that I didn't ask him to.

"I'm _not_. I would have invited you earlier, but I didn't think you'd come since you can't be seen in public with me anymore," I explain, trying not to sound bitter. But I _am_ bitter. I'm feeling worse about the secrecy of our situation over time instead of better.

"Bella, you know it's complicated," he argues.

I sigh dramatically. "I'm not asking for more explanations. Honestly, we've talked that issue to death. Come, don't come. Either way, it's fine."

"Fine." He still sounds upset.

I step closer to him. "You want to come to lunch with my dad and me?" I ask timidly.

"Do you want me to come or are you just asking because you know I overheard your dad?" he asks quietly. I close the distance between us, raising my palms to rest against his chest as I look up at him.

"I want you to come. Edward, you're very important to me – you're one of my best friends. I'd like for my dad to get to know you," I say honestly.

"I'd like to come. I'll go home and change, then come back, okay?" he asks, reaching a hand up to my face.

"What about…," I mutter, still looking up at him. He knows what I mean.

He shakes his head twice and grins crookedly at me. "Screw it. We're not gonna worry about that today, okay?"

I break into a smile and answer okay as he leans down to kiss me.

"Happy Birthday, Bella," he whispers against my lips. For the first time in a couple of years, I think I might, in fact, have a happy birthday.

* * *

By the time Edward returns, I've showered and dressed. We're both in better moods now and he kisses me deeply after he comes in. My dad arrives soon after and Edward drives us to my favorite little café – the one that has the best polenta I've ever eaten.

Despite my attempts at diversion, my dad manages to interrogate Edward effectively, quizzing him about his job, his family, his general attitude about life. Happily, Edward leaves out the part about our agreement and expertly skirts all the dating questions.

Edward and my dad bond over their love of sports and the mountains, and Edward invites my dad to the cabin to fish next summer. That makes my heart speed up a little, thinking that maybe Ned and I will still be… something… to each other next summer. Maybe even something more. Their conversation pulls me out of my short-lived daydream and I pout jokingly when I realize they're making fun of my penchant for rambling.

When Edward takes us back to my apartment, he tells me he has a little shopping to do, raising one eyebrow at me like he's irritated – still – that I didn't tell him it was my birthday.

"You don't have to get me anything," I reply.

"I want to get you something. I just don't know how long it will take me to find it," he answers. "I'll try to make dinner, but I'll catch up with you later one way or the other, okay?"

"Okay," I nod, smiling up at him.

He nods. "Go spend some time with your dad. He's nuts about you," Edward smiles. I nod as he leans down to kiss me, just a quick peck since my dad is standing a few feet away. "See you tonight, Stel."

"See you, Ned," I say. When I turn back to face my dad, he's smiling at me, too.

* * *

My dad and I have a fun afternoon; we spend most of it walking around since it's a nice day. He gave me a Mariners hoodie as a gift and I wear it even though I'm not a sports fan.

I try to call Edward before we leave for dinner, but he doesn't answer. Dad and I meet Jasper and Emmett at an Italian restaurant. My dad looks at me several times across the table and I'm sure he's curious about where Edward is, but he thankfully doesn't ask. I'm curious about where he is, too, but I'm trying not to show it. I'm also trying not to feel hurt… but it's not working.

After dinner, I hug and kiss my dad before he leaves, then Em and Jas take me to a dance club downtown. I have a few drinks, get a good buzz going, and have fun dancing with my boys. When they ask about Edward, I tell them honestly that I don't know if he's coming or not. I can see this answer doesn't please them, but they don't say anything.

When my buzz starts to wear off and I start to get sleepy, I tell them I want to go home. They fight me a little, but finally relent. Jas offers to ride in the cab with me, leaving Em lusting after a redhead.

In the cab, Jasper asks way too many questions about what's going on with Edward. I deflect as long as I can, then finally snap.

"Jas, it's my goddamn birthday. Can you please stop asking questions I don't want to answer? Give me a 24 hour reprieve?" I ask sharply.

"Okay, sorry, Baby Swan," he says, scooting closer to me in the backseat and letting me rest against his shoulder. He walks me to the door of my building and tells me to call him tomorrow before hopping in the cab to go back to the club.

When I get upstairs, I go into the kitchen to get a bottle of water and some Advil. I take my time as I get ready for bed, washing off my makeup and brushing my teeth slowly. I have just changed into my pj's when I hear a knock at the door. Assuming it's Edward, I rush to the door and open it without checking the peephole.

Fuck my life. It's not Edward. It's Jake. With flowers. I stand dumbfounded, mouth gaping, as he begins speaking.

"Happy birthday, Bells," he says, using the nickname that I refuse to let anyone use anymore.

"It _was_ a happy birthday until you showed up. What the hell, Jacob?" I seethe, coming to my senses. I went from shocked to angry in less than one second.

"I wanted to see you…to talk to you," he says, turning around to face me from the middle of my living room. He came through my doorway and into my living room while I was still too stunned to block his way. Tears spring to my eyes and threaten to spill over. I don't love him anymore – they're not those kind of tears – I'm just pissed as hell that he found me and had the nerve to show up here.

"Okay, Jake. You have two minutes. Spit out what you came to say and then get out," I say furiously, turning toward him, swiping away my angry tears.

"Bells, really, two minutes? That's all I'm worth to you?" he asks, trying to manipulate me with words…and with his smile… which I used to find so handsome, but now it nauseates me. I snatch the bouquet he holds out toward me and toss it over my shoulder, smiling with satisfaction when I hear the flowers hit the wall behind me with a loud thwack.

"Of course not, Jake, but the space-time continuum doesn't work with negative numbers," I say snottily.

"Baby, don't be this way. What we had was so good. We could have it again. You know I'm sorry," he says.

I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. "How did you find me?" I ask icily.

He laughs at me. "Internet. It only took me five minutes to find out where you'd moved. And here you are, all alone on your birthday. It's like you were waiting for me to show up," he says, smiling at me. It makes me sick to think that I used to give in to almost anything he wanted when he smiled at me that way.

"No, she was waiting for me to show up," Edward says from behind me, sliding his arms around my waist from behind. "Sorry I'm late, baby. I got held up." He pulls me tightly to his chest and leans down to kiss my temple. Thank God I never shut the door to the hallway.

I turn in his arms and brighten immediately, Jake completely forgotten. I know it's unreasonable for me to be so happy just because he finally showed up, but I am anyway.

"You're here!" I exclaim, throwing my arms around his neck to hug him.

"I'm so sorry I was late, Stel. I tried to catch you at the bar, but Emmett said you'd already left," he says, bending down to kiss me. Something warm blossoms in my chest when I know he actually tried to show up in public for me.

Jake clears his throat loudly behind me. "Bells, who the fuck is this guy?"

I start to answer, but Edward beats me to it. "I'm Edward. I assume you're Jake, right?" Edward holds me to him tightly with his left arm and extends his right hand toward Jake.

Jake shakes Edward's hand, glaring at both of us. "Yes, I'm Jake Black."

"Well, Jake, I'd like to say it's nice to meet you, but in all sincerity, it's not. So perhaps I should say thank you for being and asshole and doing what you did. Otherwise, I never would have had the opportunity to know this amazing woman," he says, glancing quickly down at me, frowning as he reaches up to wipe away the lingering wetness from my cheeks.

My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it will burst – even though I know this is for show, for Jake. Edward's helping me reclaim some of the dignity I lost on the night I found my fiancé in bed with another woman.

"Who are you to Bella?" Jake asks snidely.

Edward looks down at me. I can't read the expression in his eyes – it's not panic, like I thought it would be. His eyes are shining, he looks relaxed. I decide to take matters into my own hands.

"He's everything. He's everything to me," I say, smiling up at him, not sparing a look at Jake. Edward smiles back and leans down to kiss me.

I pull away and look over at Jake. "Jake, your two minutes are up. Goodbye," I say.

"You little fucking bitch. You think you can just replace me with the first pretty boy who comes along? He'll end up breaking your heart, too," he sneers.

I feel Edward tense up beside me and turn to look up at him quickly. "What did you just call her?" he asks, his voice low, angry… frightening.

"No, baby. He's not worth it," I say. Pulling myself out of Edward's arms, I step in front of him to face Jacob.

"Jake, you need to go now. Don't come back. There's nothing here for you," I say forcefully. Edward steps up right behind me so his chest is against my back and slides one arm around my waist again.

Jake looks murderously at me, then walks out the door, slamming it behind him.

Edward whirls me around and before I know what's happening, has his mouth fastened tightly on mine. He reaches down to cup my behind and lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, never letting my mouth move from his. He walks to the door and flips the lock, then heads straight for my bedroom.

"I have a present for you, but first, Bella, I need you…need to be inside you," he murmurs against my lips.

"I don't want a present. I just want you," I answer, moving my mouth to his neck as he walks into my room.

He lays me down on the bed and starts pulling his clothes off. I sit up to take off my tank top, then lie back down to slide my pajama pants and underwear off. I scoot up in the bed, kicking the covers away, then Edward leans down over me. There's no foreplay… he immediately reaches down to see if I'm wet, thrusting two fingers in. When he feels that I am, he settles on top of me and pushes inside.

"Oh, my God, Edward," I say.

"Baby," he replies, kissing me quickly and then holding himself above me as he moves forcefully against me.

Neither of us says anything else, but our eyes stay locked on each other's until I come, moving my arms up to his shoulders and sinking my nails into his skin as I lift myself up to him. I feel his orgasm start before mine is finished and he holds himself inside me as his eyes slide closed.

He lowers his chest to mine and kisses me slow and deep, tangling one hand in my hair. Then he moves off me and rolls to his back, tugging on me until I roll to my side and snuggle up to him.

"Stel, I'm sorry I missed dinner and the club. I went to Portland to get part of your present. There was a huge wreck on the 5 on the way back and I was stuck for almost two hours," he says quietly.

"I tried to call you," I say. I'm not really mad, but my feelings are still a little hurt.

"My phone's dead. I don't have a car charger for the new phone and I forgot to charge it last night," he replies. "I know this sounds like a bunch of bullshit excuses, Stel. I am really sorry though. Jesus, I feel like I keep letting you down."

"No… it's all right, Ned. You rescued me from Jake. That's worth a decade of missed birthday dinners," I say, trying to laugh a little. "Thanks for sticking up for me."

"Thanks for sticking up for _me_," he replies. I prop myself up on my elbow and scoot up to kiss him. We kiss long enough that he drags me across his body so I'm straddling him as our hands begin to explore again.

"Ned," I pant when he pushes me up higher to kiss down my neck to my chest.

"Stella," he answers against my skin. "Hang on. I want to go get your present." He nudges me gently until I slide off him and he pulls the covers over me before he walks – naked, of course – out of the room.

He's back a minute later with a present in one hand and a plate holding one cupcake with one candle in the other. I pull the sheet up with me as I sit up, keeping my arms against my body to hold it in place. I blow out the candle on the cupcake as Edward holds it in front of me, then he gets back into bed with me, sitting right next to me.

He pulls off a bite of the cupcake and feeds it to me, laughing when frosting gets on my upper lip and quickly leaning in to lick it away with his tongue. I reach up and grab his hair, holding his mouth to mine as I plunge my tongue in and move it against his.

"Time out. Open this first. Then we'll get back to that," he says, smiling at me and holding out a long, thin box.

I take it and slide the red ribbon off, then tear off the black wrapping paper. I lift the lid slowly – it's a charm bracelet. It's silver, or it looks silver, but when I pick it up, I know it's too heavy to be sterling. It must be platinum. I immediately tear up when I see it already has several charms attached.

I smile as I start fingering all the charms and Edward starts explaining.

A yellow taxi. "The first time I kissed you was in the back of a yellow cab. Remember?" he asks. I nod as I continue staring at the charms.

A red apple. "The first trip we went on together – to the big apple. I had so much fun with you, Stel. You were my little NYC virgin." I laugh lightly as I nod again.

A green canoe. "The canoes… the first one here in Green Lake was fun, and the second one... where we saw fireworks." I turn to look at him and reach up to kiss him. Each of the canoes is special to me, too.

A yellow sun. "For our trip to San Diego. God, Stel. That was one of the best weekends of my life. I loved having you there with me." Tears are gathering in my eyes, clouding my vision a bit, but I can still see well enough to grab the next charm.

A white rabbit. "Uh, that one's for the first night we spent together, during which you discovered my superiority." I laugh loudly as a tear leaks from the corner of my left eye.

A yellow duck. "The first bath we took together. Just you and me and Riley's rubber ducky."

A hamburger. "For that stupid game you were playing on your phone in my office. I was attracted to you as soon as I saw you, but I was… intrigued by you when you were such a ballsy little thing." He leans over to kiss me this time.

A brown moose. "For the cabin… the weekend that I learned so much about you, so much about my mom… and some stuff about myself, too. After that weekend, I knew… um, that I always want you in my life. Always want us to be friends."

A margarita glass. "That's the first drink I ever made you, remember? The first time you came to my house… when you thought Riley was my daughter." We both chuckle lightly.

A streetcar. "That's for your nickname. Stelllaaaa." When he says it just like Brando, I launch myself at him, laughing. We hug for a minute and then I pull back to look at the last charm.

A pink birthday cake. "For your birthday. Happy birthday, Bella."

I've given up trying to hold the tears back, letting them slide freely down my face now.

"I love it, Edward. Truly. It's the most thoughtful gift anyone's ever given me," I say, sniffling and wiping my nose with my hand.

"Stel, that's gross. Here," he says, handing me his discarded t-shirt.

"I'm not wiping my nose on your t-shirt," I laugh.

"Why not? Then I'll have to stay until I can wash it," he says, taking it from me and wiping my nose himself.

"Will you help me put the bracelet on?" I ask, smiling.

"Sure," he answers, taking it from me and hooking it around my wrist. He leans in to kiss me and I pull him with me when I lie down, hearing the charms clink against each other softly as we begin to move together.

* * *

The next ten days are idyllic – except for the part where we still can't be seen together. But we spend time with Alice and Riley and with Ang and Ben. Things are better between Edward and me – I've learned how to successfully push down the feelings of anger and bitterness about our secret friendship. Yup. I'm back to living in denial. It's a pleasant enough place.

When Edward has to go to San Francisco the second Wednesday, he promises to text me often. He calls several times, too. I spend Wednesday night in, but Thursday I'm supposed to have dinner with Jas and Em to celebrate the Seattle tourism account I landed early this week. I have one other big client on the line, too, that I hope to get under contract in the next few weeks. Professionally, it's been a pretty good year for me.

Emmett ends up taking a client to dinner on Thursday night, so Jasper and I sit alone in a booth at a pub, eating bar food and drinking until we're tipsy. He badgers me about Edward until I finally give in and tell him what's really going on… that we can't be seen in public and we've been holed up in my apartment or his house for a month now, except for the night in Tacoma and my birthday lunch.

I watch as Jasper's blue eyes darken, turning from pale blue Texas skies to deep azure, rough seas. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens them again, he leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and looking into my eyes.

"Baby Swan, I know you love him whether you'll admit it to me or not, but this... this situation is a fucked up mess," he says gently.

"Jasper," I start, but he shakes his head.

"Let me finish," he insists firmly, but he's not angry… not yelling at me like last time. "Only you can decide what you're willing to live with. But think about this: Are you more afraid of losing him or losing yourself? Because you're giving up a whole hell of a lot to be with him. And you're lying by pretending this relationship doesn't mean more to you than sex buddies."

Oh, God. My breath hitches… my heart races… my stomach begins to churn. Leave it to Jasper to hone in on my feelings and sum them up in a few sentences. Sometimes I wish he didn't know me quite so well.

It's a simple question: Am I more afraid of losing Edward or myself? And the simple answer is I don't know. I know I'm lying to him... I know it's not fair to either of us for me to continue lying. But I also know that when I tell him the truth, our arrangement will be over.

Tears gather in my eyes as I look over at Jasper. "Why are you doing this to me?" I ask.

He smiles softly at me and reaches across the table with both of his hands to grasp mine gently, rubbing his thumbs back and forth soothingly across my knuckles. "Because you're my best friend. You're not going to like yourself if you keep lying to Edward. You're not going to like him if you keep hiding your relationship. Someone had to point it out to you and you know Emmett wouldn't do it even if he was here... he's a chickenshit," he says, knowing it will make me laugh.

He chuckles with me and I tug on his hands until he scoots out of his side of the booth and moves to sit beside me. I lean over against him when he puts his arm around me and holds me close. I put my inside hand on his leg and he grasps it with his free hand, using his thumb to lightly trace circles on my palm.

"I'll think about it," I whisper, knowing he's right, knowing that I can't keep living in this little world Edward and I have created. It's bothering me more and more that we can't meet for dinner on the way home from work, can't go to the grocery store together, can't take Riley anywhere. I take a deep breath and sigh, turning my head to bury my face against Jasper's chest.

"Aw, Baby Swan. I'm so sorry, darlin'. I know it hurts," he says, squeezing me tightly against him and leaning down to kiss the top of my head.

He's right about that, too.

* * *

Edward flies back from San Francisco late Saturday morning and texts me as soon as he arrives.

***Just got back. Can I come over?**

***Can you meet me at Three Beans?**

He doesn't answer for a minute. I'm sure he's trying to figure out why I want to break the rules and meet at a coffee house. Finally, he responds.

***Sure, I guess. Why?**

***Need to tell you something. No PDA, I promise.**

He agrees and we plan to meet in thirty minutes. I am already dressed, so I walk to the kitchen and take a big drink of Pepto, then grab my purse and walk out the door.

* * *

I arrive at Three Beans about fifteen minutes early and choose a table outside after getting a drink from the counter inside. The outdoor area is almost deserted. Even though it's a gorgeous fall Saturday in Seattle, only one other table is occupied. They look college-aged, the young couple I'm watching at the table on the opposite side of the patio. He's reading a really thick book – like Anna Karenina thick, although I'm sure that's not what he's reading. But it's the longest damn book I ever read and, therefore, the standard by which I measure book length. She's typing on a laptop. Occasionally, they speak to each other – not a conversation, just short comments. Twice she leans over to kiss him – and each time he smiles as she draws near. It so reminds me of Edward and myself in San Diego. The perfection – aside from seeing Jamie – of those few days will be how I measure all future trips, I'm sure. I smile a little, looking at them, thinking about Edward.

Tearing my eyes away from them, I sigh and take a sip of my iced passion tea. I really wanted a coffee, but decided a shitload of caffeine might not be the best choice for me right now. I'm jittery enough on my own.

I wonder if Edward's nervous to meet me, even though I chose an out of the way spot and there's not much chance of getting caught here. I sigh and pull my cardigan a little more tightly around myself, insulating my body from the chill. I grab the scarf I laid down on the chair next to me and wind it around my neck. Keep the hands busy, Swan. Don't think about what you're about to do to your world.

Don't think about how badly it will hurt.

Suddenly, I see him. My heart races the same way it did on the day I met him – I suppose I got somewhat used to his appearance during the past few months, but today I'm stunned by his good looks. Perhaps because I haven't seen him for a couple of days. Perhaps because I know I won't be seeing him again – not this way, when he's kind of, a little bit mine.

He waves and smiles cautiously at me as he approaches the table.

"Thanks for meeting me," I say, automatically smiling back up at him as he comes to the table.

"You're welcome, Bella," he says, sitting down at the table and reaching for my hand across the top. He looks somewhat uneasy. I'm not sure if it's because we're in public together or because he knows something is up since I'm asking to break the rules. Smiling at me again, he squeezes my fingers gently once, and then lets go. I smile sardonically back at him as I feel the bitterness spike in my chest. "What's going on?"

"I need to tell you something…something I should have told you earlier," I start, fumbling for words even though I've thought of nothing except what I'd say since yesterday when I made this decision.

He's frowning at me now, but the corners of his lips are lifted like he's enjoying seeing me flustered. Hope he enjoys it now…I have a feeling he won't enjoy it much longer.

"I didn't mean for this to happen. In fact, I didn't want it to happen," I say, dropping my eyes down to the top of the iron table and tracing the diamond pattern with my finger. No, I will not be embarrassed about my feelings. I swallow once and then look up, my resigned gaze meeting his concerned one.

"What is it, Bella? You're scaring me," he says, really frowning now.

I reach over and clutch his hand briefly – I don't hang on any longer than he did when he sat down. "Don't be afraid – it's gonna be okay," I say, trying to smile at him. I manage to get one side of my mouth curled slightly upward.

"Are you pregnant?" he asks quietly.

I laugh a little at that – no wonder he was nervous. "No… no. I'm not pregnant," I say, fleetingly amused that he jumped to the same conclusion that his sister did a few weeks ago.

His shoulders relax slightly and his frown lessens, but he still looks worried. I know I've got to just spit it out before I give both of us heart attacks.

"Edward, I love you. I'm in love with you. I'm so sorry," I say quickly. I see the shield come down across his eyes. He's pulling away. I knew he would, but that doesn't make it any easier to watch.

"Christ, Bella, you know I can't –," he begins. "Shit, Bella… of all the times to… Jesus, I can't do this right now." He reaches one hand up to rake through the top of his hair.

I interrupt. "I'm not asking for anything from you. I am only telling you because we promised that we would be honest with each other," I state, frowning when he flinches slightly. "But I haven't been – not since I realized how I feel." Oddly, my voice sounds much stronger than I feel.

"Bella-," he tries to interrupt, but I continue speaking over him. If I stop, I'll start crying and that is unacceptable to me. I need to say what I have to say and get the hell out of here.

"I know this means that we won't see each other anymore," I say resolutely. "I realize you don't feel the same and I have no illusions of changing you. I have no _desire_ to change you. I love you just the way you are, which I guess is ironic." I huff out a humorless chuckle.

"Bella, why are you doing this?" he asks, his voice strained. He's still looking at me with those beautiful, green, hypnotic eyes.

I smile sadly at him as I respond. "I've known for a few weeks how I feel about you and have struggled trying to make the decision whether or not to tell you. But, Edward, both of us deserve the truth. I deserve more than being in a sex buddy friendship when I want more; you deserve to have my honesty, and to have the kind of relationship you want without the pressure of the other person having feelings you don't reciprocate," I say quietly. My eyes are misting over and I blink quickly. "I don't want to be in a secret relationship anymore, Edward. But I will always cherish this time we've had together and how you helped me heal."

"Bella, please," he whispers, his guarded eyes imploring me.

"Please what, Edward?" I ask gently. "Please take it back? I can't. I'm not ashamed of how I feel about you."

"You know I care about you," he states hoarsely. He drops his eyes to the top of the table.

"I know, Edward. I treasure that more than I can explain…more than you could know." I swore I wouldn't cry in front of him, but I can feel myself starting to lose it. I sniffle quietly, trying to keep him from hearing. "I'm going to go now. I don't think I have anything left at your place and I didn't see anything of yours at my apartment. If I find anything, I'll send it to your house."

His eyes dart back up to meet mine. He's stunned…shell shocked.

"You're…just….this is it?" he asks, swallowing loudly.

"Edward, I can't go back to how things were. We both need to move on," I say sadly.

I stand up and walk to his side of the table. I ruffle his hair a little and bend to kiss his cheek. He reaches out a hand and grabs mine, bringing it to his lips for an instant, pressing a soft kiss against the side of my thumb. I squeeze his hand and then pull mine away gently. If I don't go now, I won't be able to walk away from him.

"Goodbye, Ned," I say with a small laugh even though I don't find anything humorous about walking away from this man. "Take care of yourself."

"Bella," he says, looking up at me, "just – hell – take care, too." For a split second, something fiery flashes in his eyes, but it's gone before I can identify it. I nod and turn to go before I completely break down. I let myself out of the little gate on the side of the patio and walk up the street half a block to where I parked my car. The whole time I'm walking, I strain my ears, waiting to hear if he calls my name, hollers at me to wait.

He doesn't.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading... I hate asking for reviews, but I'm gonna anyway. Please? ;)**

**Next update - soonish. Most of next chap is written. **


	17. Learning To Lie

**Chapter 17 Learning to Lie**

**A/N: It's March madness here in the U.S. - if you're a sports fan... which I am. :) That said, I do not expect my beloved, inconsistent Jayhawks to do well. But I will enjoy watching them try!**

**I owe huge thanks to several people: **

**Littlecat358 rec'd me in her story Unplanned Perfection and several other places. And then reviewed every single chapter of this story which made me cry at work. In my defense, it was girl week and I was hormonal. But it was so sweet, I would've cried anyway.**

**Twific Crackmum pimped me out so much I was a little sore... ;)**

**Ladies at PLF made me laugh so hard that I had to stay completely away in order to write this chapter.**

**Michelle0526 preread for me and makes me happy in general. :)**

**Windgirl810 beta'd the hell out of this chap and is now doing double beta duty for this story and NHB. I'm forever grateful! I love talking to her about what fictional people should do. ha**

**Some other darlings - shopgirl525 and Skent94 - rec'd me on Twitter. **

**Thank you all for being so kind to me.**

**A lot of readers also have favorited/alerted/reviewed lately and several of you reviewed multiple chaps (or every chap) too. Thank you!**

**And especially, thank you to the readers who came at the beginning, came back after my unintended three-month sabbatical, and are still hanging around to find out what the hell is up with Ned! He took a pounding after the last chapter - deservedly.**

**I don't own Twilight. I do own the roundest Dachshund on the planet: Fat Max. He looks like he swallowed a butterball turkey. But he's sweet. He lives at Grandma's now so that I can breathe allergy-free. She makes him pancakes and bacon almost every day because he just doesn't like the diet dog food. We have NO idea why. **

**All mistakes are mine because I tweak until the last second. **

**Thanks for reading...please review!**

* * *

With every step I take away from him, the same words echo in my head.

_I will not turn around._

With every step I take away from him, I listen for any sign that he's coming after me.

_I will not turn around._

With every step I take away from him, my heart breaks a little more when the only thing following me is silence.

* * *

Halfway up the block, I cross the street as I pull my car keys from my pocket. After I hit the unlock button on the remote, I absently run my thumb over the smooth surface of the moose keychain connected to the key fob. The stupid moose keychain that Edward bought each of us in Roslyn. The stupid moose keychain that we both attached our car keys to without knowing the other did the same thing. We laughed the day we discovered what we'd done.

Unable to keep them at bay any longer, I feel tears well in my eyes and threaten to spill over. I open the car door and get in, then quickly fasten my seatbelt and start the engine.

I know I can't go home. Not now... not yet. I can't go to my apartment and remember Edward sitting on the couch… standing in the kitchen… kissing me in the shower… lying in my bed.

Where can I go? Where can I go?

With tears slowly sliding down my face, I grab my phone and pull up my favorites list. Dad. Jasper. Emmett. Edward. I love my dad, but… no. If I call him when I'm this upset, he'll end up sleeping on my couch tonight.

Jasper?

No, I'm not ready to talk to him yet. He checked on me a couple of times yesterday at the office, but I didn't tell him about my decision. I wanted to tell Edward first. And now that I have, I'm a little annoyed with Jas – even though rationally I know it's displacement or transference or some other defense mechanism that I can't remember the name of from Psych 101.

Edward...

I sigh. Then edit him off the list. I can't look at his name every time I dial my phone.

That leaves Emmett. He might be the perfect antidote – my gentle-giant friend who loves me and never fails to make me laugh. Sniffling, I press his name and hold the phone up to my ear.

He answers on the second ring. "What's shakin', hot stuff?" he jokes.

As soon as I hear his voice, I crumble. Two breathy sobs escape before I can stifle them. "Em... Em," I choke, drawing a loud, gasping breath before trying again. "Em."

"Bell, where are you? Are you okay?" he asks quietly, sounding concerned.

"Let me come get you," he continues when I don't respond.

At last, I find my voice, although it's thick with tears. "No, I… can I come over? Are you alone?"

"Come over," he whispers into the phone. "Douche Newton is here but I'll get rid of him." Apparently Douche Newton is in the room.

"K. I'll be there soon," I croak, then hang up. Anxious to get away from the scene of my heartbreak, I barely glance in the side view mirror before pulling out into the street and driving toward Emmett's condo.

I try to compose myself during the drive, successfully taming the sobs, but not quite getting rid of the sniffles. After I park at Emmett's, a quick glance in the rearview mirror confirms my suspicion that I look terrible right now. My eyes and nose are swollen. All my eye makeup is gone, except for the mascara caked under each eye. I pull the scarf from around my neck and try to wipe away the black mess, then use it to wipe my nose, too. The scarf is ruined, but I don't care. I would never have worn it again anyway. It's the break-up scarf now… or the non-break-up scarf I guess, since Edward and I were never _really_ a couple. I crumple the scarf into a ball and toss it into the backseat.

Keeping my head down so I don't have to make eye contact with anyone I pass, I go inside Emmett's building and take the elevator to his floor. When I knock on his door, he opens it immediately and pulls me into a big hug, lifting me up and carrying me inside, my feet swinging from side to side with each step he takes.

"Time's up, Newton," Emmett barks out to the guy sitting on the couch. I never liked Mike Newton and, thankfully, have only seen him a few times since college. But he looks the same. Same bad haircut, same dorky clothes.

"Hey, Bella. You look like shit when you've been crying," he remarks with a laugh.

Yup, he's still a jackass.

Emmett sits down in his oversized leather chair, grasping my hanging legs and settling me sideways on his lap. Then he wraps his arms around my upper body and pulls me close, holding me tightly against his chest. I curl my legs over the arm of the chair, letting them hang lifelessly toward the floor.

"Yeah?" I respond. "Well, I'll look better tomorrow. But you'll still be stuck with _your_ face." I feel mean for saying it, but I'm hurt. A little by Mike. A lot by Edward.

What did I expect Edward to do after I told him I love him? Exactly what he did. But I hoped… even though I tried not to. As much as I tried to stop it, hope seeped into the cracks Edward made in the wall around my heart. I just didn't admit it was happening until the damage was done.

So my unprotected heart and I had hoped this morning… hoped he'd say he had deeper feelings for me, too. But he didn't say that. He pulled away. He let me leave, even though he was clearly upset when I did. Maybe he does have deeper feelings for me, but it doesn't matter – if he's intent on denying that part of himself, that part of us.

"Still a bitchy little thing, aren't you?" Mike asks, not moving from his squatter position on Emmett's couch.

"Yes, I am. And you're still ugly," I respond snottily. "But I can be nice when I want to be; you can't change ugly," I finish.

Emmett is shaking with laughter against me, jostling me around a little on his lap. In all honesty, Newton isn't ugly. He's decent-looking, but the jerk factor negates any cute factor in its entirety.

Egged on my Em's laughter, I push on nastily, "In fact, you're so ugly your mama takes you everywhere she goes just so she doesn't have to kiss you goodbye."

I hear a low whistle from the hallway leading to Emmett's front door – I know it's Jas. I whip my head around to glare at Emmett.

Em frowns and leans in to whisper to me. "Simmer down. I didn't call him. He was already on his way over when you called." I sigh, squirming around a bit to get comfortable again on his lap.

"Baby Swan, my mama would be proud," Jas says, recognizing that I learned that particular putdown from her and smiling as he walks into the room. When he sees where I'm sitting, sees my face, he looks puzzled, then alarmed.

"What did he do?" he demands, walking toward Em and me. This is exactly why I didn't want Jasper here for this. He'll blame Edward and I don't want to listen to that diatribe right now. Plus, I'm a little pissed at him for forcing me to face reality. I liked denial better.

"Nothing. It was me, Jas," I answer quietly, looking down and leaning my head sideways against Em's shoulder.

Jasper moves to the side of the chair and crouches down by my legs, resting his hands on my knees.

"Baby Swan, what happened?" he asks gently.

"I'm not talking until he's gone," I whisper, tilting my head in Newton's direction as I fight back tears. Jasper squeezes my knees twice – I know he's trying to get me to look at him, but I can't do it without starting to cry. I shake my head back and forth a little at Jas, then rest it against Em's shoulder again.

"Dude, do not make me tell you again. Get the hell out of here now!" Emmett roars. Mike takes his time, but finally goes. Jasper follows him, locks the door behind him and comes back into the room.

"He's gone. Tell us what's wrong," Jas says. "What did you do?" He crouches down in front of the chair this time. I still don't look at him.

"I broke it off," I say, swallowing uncomfortably around the emotion clogging my throat. I don't try to stem the flow of tears any longer, but I don't want to fall completely apart. "I love him… I couldn't lie to him anymore… so I told him and broke it off. And he just…just… _let_ me. I knew he would, but it hurts so much more than I thought it would." My breath hitches a couple of times and I let out one small sob, but manage to keep the rest inside.

"Well, shit, Bell," Emmett remarks, shifting me around in his arms so he can see my face better. "What can we do?"

"I don't know," I say between gaspy breaths, hunching my shoulders and losing the battle against the sobs.

They sit with me while I cry like a big baby – the same way they did after I broke off my engagement to Jake. They soothe me the best they can, calling me smart and beautiful, calling Edward an idiot and a motherfucker. I think Emmett said that just to make me laugh… but it doesn't work. Finally, I'm able to pull myself together and go into the bathroom to splash water on my face.

When I come out, they ask if I want to go somewhere – suggesting the movies or a bar. But I don't want to. We end up sitting side-by-side-by-side on Em's couch snacking and watching football all afternoon. I'm not really paying attention to the game, but it comforts me to be doing something normal. And eating popcorn while watching sports with my boys used to be normal for me.

"I wish we still smoked weed," Emmett says out of the blue. "This would be a good day for it. I don't even know where to get it anymore." He sounds a little whiny. I start to giggle, wrapping my arms around myself and bump my shoulder against Em beside me. I knew he'd make me laugh sooner or later.

"Emmett, _we_ never smoked weed," Jas says amusedly. "_You_ smoked weed. You just smoked so much of it that you didn't notice that Baby Swan and I weren't joining in."

"No shit? Never?" Em asks.

"I haven't since high school," Jas says.

"Not true, Jas," I insist, sitting up and twisting sideways to face him. "We smoked with a bunch of your high school friends after what's-her-name's wedding… your high school girlfriend."

"Right. Maria. I forgot," he admits. "I needed it then. She fucking toyed with my heart all through high school, then hooked up with my best friend as soon as I left town." He kicks off his shoes and crosses one ankle over the other knee, jiggling his foot in aggravation. Even though he hasn't mentioned them to me in a long time, I know he's still bothered by what they did.

"Are they still married?" I ask. It's been almost five years since that wedding – one of the first I went to with him. I think it was the first one where we pretended to be a couple.

He chuckles, turning to look at me. "Yeah. She got fat though. And she's stuck on a cattle ranch with a couple of kids while her husband's out carousing in the bars every night according to Big Daddy."

"That takes a little of the sting away, huh?" Emmett asks, laughing.

"Sure the hell does," Jas agrees, nodding as he shifts his eyes to Emmett.

"You guys are assholes," I say, but I can't help laughing a little bit, too… until I think of Edward marrying someone else someday. My smile fades and I settle back against the couch between them, wondering how long I'm going to feel this deep, slicing pain. Suddenly, I want to be alone.

"I'm gonna go home, guys," I say, pushing myself up from the comfy couch.

"Bell, you can stay tonight. I'll take the couch," Em insists, standing up, too.

I smile half-heartedly at him. "I appreciate it, Emmett, but I want to be alone for a while. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" I ask, stepping forward to hug him. Squeezing me, he agrees.

Jas walks me out to my car. "Baby Swan, want me to stop by when I leave here?" he asks as I lean against the door of my car.

I shake my head. "No, thanks. I'll be all right. Call me in the morning when you get up," I say, leaning into his chest when he wraps his arms around me.

"You're not gonna go home and listen to depressing Celine Dion songs, are you?" he asks, pulling his head back to grin down at me.

"No, Jasper. That's your m.o., not mine. I listen to Fiddy when I'm upset," I retort, reaching for his armpit, where I know he's ticklish, making him jump away from me and chuckle. We move back into a hug, twisting slowly from side to side.

"I _am_ sorry," he whispers as he pulls me more tightly against his chest.

"I know. Me, too," I reply. "I didn't want to do this again, you know?"

"I know. The right guy's out there for you, Baby Swan," he says gently. I know he's trying to make me feel better, but the thought of being with someone else makes my stomach start to churn again. I only want Edward. And now I also want Pepto.

I force myself to smile up at Jas, hoping he won't see how his last comment devastated me. "Probably hanging out with your Miss Right," I say jokingly, then pull away to get in my car.

"Hang on. Gimme some sugar, sugar," he says, leaning down to peck my lips lightly. He stands on the sidewalk waving as I drive away.

* * *

When I get back to my apartment, I change into sweats and pour myself a glass of red wine. I don't bother to turn on any lights in the living room even though the dusky light coming in the windows is quickly fading. I turn on the radio, tuning into one of the cheesy, easy-listening radio stations and cringing when a nationally syndicated, tell-me-your-sad-story show comes on. For each pitiful story, the host finds just the right song to dedicate to the missing loved one. It's perfect for my mood. I sit down in a chair in my living room, staring at the deep maroon liquid in my glass and wondering if it will fill the hole in my chest.

I listen to the stories and the crappy, sad songs as I sip my wine. When a Celine Dion song comes on, I laugh out loud, then finally allow myself to begin crying, in earnest this time. The sobs, when they finally come, are deep and silent. All thoughts of maintaining control are gone, and I let everything out, crying until the room is completely dark. When I'm quiet at last, I lie completely still on the couch, staring at the wall until I finally fall asleep, utterly spent.

* * *

The week that follows creeps by slowly. I keep it together for the most part – work helps, Em and Jas help, and Angela helps after I finally admit to her on Tuesday that Edward and I aren't... anything... anymore.

But each night when I'm alone, I follow the same routine: I sit in bed and look at pictures of Edward – the magazine photo where I first saw him, a few pictures of us from New York and several more from San Diego that Charlotte sent to me. I know I have to stop doing this – it's not helping me. It just makes me miss him more.

I miss him physically, of course – his kisses, his face, his body. But more than that, I miss our friendship. I miss talking to him, hanging out with him, listening to him laugh. I miss hearing him call, "Hey, Stel," from the other room when he wants to talk to me.

Every night, I stay on my side of the bed, leaving his side untouched. I fall asleep facing his side of the bed and resting my hand on his pillow... wondering what he's doing.

* * *

Friday night, Em and Jas take me out to dinner, then to a club… trying to distract me with alcohol. It works. For the first time in a week, I have fun – dancing, laughing, doing shots. But by eleven o'clock, I'm ready to go, so we get a cab home. When the cab stops in front of my building, I kiss both of them on the cheek before I get out, then I walk unsteadily inside to the elevator.

"Whoa, I drank too much," I mumble to myself as I lose my balance, stumbling when the elevator stops on my floor. I weave my way down the hall toward my door, wishing I hadn't worn heels today.

I drank excessively after breaking up with Jake, too, trying to self-medicate the pain away. But I never do it on weeknights and I never do it with clients. "Do it with clients," I snicker quietly. "I definitely _used_ to do it with a client."

Holding my purse open in front of me with one hand, I look down and use my other hand to dig through the bottom of the bag, searching for my keys. I curse under my breath as I stagger to the left a bit and bump my shoulder against the wall – hard. Still looking down, I don't notice the person sitting outside my door until I'm close enough that I see his long, denim-covered legs blocking my way.

"Shit!" I exclaim, stumbling backward in surprise, my heart pounding in my chest. "Didn't see ya there, Ned… Edward… Mr. Cullen." What the hell do you call your ex-fuck buddy? I start to giggle.

"You're drunk," he says, his voice flat… monotone. Uh oh, Ned is disappointed in me. That makes me giggle louder.

"Yes, quite. I've been out with my boys… doing shots," I say, finally getting my inappropriate laughter under control as I clumsily step over his outstretched legs. I finally locate my keys at the bottom of my purse and hold them up triumphantly. "Got 'em!"

He stands up from his spot on the floor – just like the last time I found him waiting in my hallway – and leans against the doorjamb as I unlock and open my door.

"They let you come home alone in this condition?" he asks. I roll my eyes his way – whoa, that makes me dizzy – and step inside the doorway. I turn back to face him as I kick my shoes off and push them to the side.

"They dropped me off at the front door. I assured them I could make it upstairs by myself – and voila!" I motion one of my hands up with a flourish. "By some miracle, I did," I say sarcastically... even though I did almost fall down a couple of times.

My buzz is rapidly receding now though. Besides cops, nothing sobers you up faster than a run-in with an ex. He lowers his eyes to the floor and sighs, his shoulders slumping as he stuffs his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. I soften my voice when I speak again. "I really need to go to bed. Do you want something from me?"

"Can I come in?" he asks, raising his piercing green eyes to meet mine.

I shake my head sadly at him. "Mr. Cullen, that would be a mistake and we both know it."

"Why do you keep calling me Mr. Cullen?" he demands, sounding annoyed.

I shrug. "I don't know," I whisper, starting to feel a little sick.

"Bullshit, Bella. Tell me the truth," he insists.

I look down then look back up at him, meeting his eyes again as I whisper, "I need distance. It will get better, but I need some time. I can't do this right now."

"I just need to talk to you for five minutes, Bella. Please. I promise I'll keep my distance," he pleads.

I close my eyes and swallow. I know I won't be able to deny him, especially when I open my eyes again and see the sincerity in his gaze. Stepping back, I pull the door open more widely to allow him to come through, and then shut the door behind him.

"Thanks."

Walking past him into the living room, I sit down on the couch and slump backward to rest my head against the low back. I'm starting to feel a little sweaty and I know the Patron shots will be making an unwelcome reappearance soon. Suddenly nervous, I grab one of the extra throw pillows and hold it over my chest like a shield, hoping it will protect my heart from whatever he's here to say.

He looks anxious, too, dragging his hand through his hair several times and huffing out a big breath before he begins speaking.

"Bella, I... fuck, this was easier in my head," he mumbles, closing his eyes for a moment before looking at me again... his green gaze as hypnotic as ever. I couldn't look away from him now if I tried.

"When we met, we both had so many defenses built up… I hadn't been close to anyone for such a long time. But, God, everything about you surprised me, intrigued me… attracted me," he says intently. He could just as easily be describing how I felt about him at the beginning. "We got past each other's defenses, Bella. You know we did. We let each other in… Christ, I don't think I've ever been as close to another person as I have been to you." He continues watching me... waiting for me to respond.

Refusing to react, I continue looking up at him through my heavy-lidded, half-closed eyes. "What do you want, Edward?" I finally ask when the silence stretches to an uncomfortable interval.

"I want to go back. I want to have back what we had before everything got all screwed up. I had the best summer of my life with you. I...," he stops speaking and swallows audibly, "I... care about you – and I want us to be friends again," he says.

Swallowing my own emotions, I nod knowingly. I figured it was going to be some version of what he just said.

_Please, Bella, let's keep fucking._

He could have just said it like that and it would have been basically the same. It wouldn't have wounded me any more.

"I'm sorry. I can't," I state lifelessly. I feel hollow… empty.

Instantly, his face hardens, his eyes narrow, his gaze sharpens. "So this is what we're reduced to? You laid down a fucking ultimatum last week, and now I'm pissed off while you're drinking yourself into a stupor. This is our friendship now?" he asks angrily.

"Hey!" I spit, fuming as I launch myself off the couch and throw the pillow at him. He catches it easily. "I knew I was the one that screwed up our agreement. I never asked for a goddamn thing from you. Don't you dare come over here and accuse me of laying down some ultimatum, like I was trying to trap you into some relationship you didn't want. _I_ walked away." Fueled by my rage, my chest is heaving and my breathing is shallow.

"That's right," he agrees furiously. "You wanted me to say right then that I loved you or else you would walk away. Isn't that, in fact, a fucking ultimatum? You caught me completely off guard and then never even gave me a chance to respond. You just laid a load of emotional shit at my feet and left. You didn't ask me how I felt at all – about any of it," he seethes, bitterness evident in his voice.

Fuck. He's right about some of that. Defeated, I collapse back down onto the couch. I don't have the energy to fight him anymore. He's not done though. He's making up for the day at the Three Beans when he couldn't seem to find any words to communicate his feelings. Now he has plenty.

"_You're_ the one who said we were just friends. _You're_ the one who said we didn't have to define what we were to each other. You never told me that changed for you," he says, still agitated but not as angry as a moment ago. "Why did you have to completely remove yourself from my life? Why couldn't you give me time to figure my own shit out?"

I don't have an answer for that. My mouth is starting to water. God, I'm going to throw up soon. I've got to get him out of here.

"Edward," I begin, starting to sit up.

"Wait, Bella. I have other stuff I need to tell you, things I should have-," he interrupts.

I talk over him loudly, effectively cutting him off. "No. I don't want to hear any more. Your five minutes are up. I'm going to throw up in about one minute and I really don't want an audience. Please go," I say impassively, pushing away all my emotions for the moment, not able to deal with any of them.

His face falls and then settles into the detached mask I've seen before as the fire fades from his brilliant green eyes. He's as emotionally erratic as I am. He tosses the throw pillow he's still holding onto the chair beside him and turns around, striding determinedly toward the door.

"Fine. I'm done with this bullshit – with you – anyway." His words and the lack of inflection in his voice cut me to the bone and I'm thankful he's not looking at me as I fall to pieces behind his back.

He walks out without turning around, shutting the door loudly after himself. I push myself off the couch and dash straight to the bathroom where, still crying, I toss my cookies – and my tequila, vodka, beer, and something purple… oh, cranberry juice – into the toilet. After a few minutes, I strip down to my bra and underwear and lie down on the cool, tile floor, using a folded towel as a pillow. I let myself sink into the nirvana of alcohol-induced sleep, dreamless, painless… Edwardless.

* * *

I wake up on the bathroom floor about eight o'clock the next morning feeling like I've been hit by a truck. After wrapping my robe around myself, I stagger to the kitchen in search of a hangover cure. When I open my refrigerator, I'm surprised to see six-packs of Sprite and Coke inside – I rarely keep soft drinks in the apartment. There's also a package of Alka-Seltzer on the counter right beside the fridge.

While two seltzer tablets dissolve in a glass of water, I guzzle an entire Coke. Then I drink the fizzy water before heading for my bedroom, carrying another Coke and three ibuprofen tablets. I am almost to my bedroom when my brain catches up… it was him. He must have come back… must have brought these things for me knowing I would feel shitty this morning. I turn to lean against the wall and choke back a sob.

I let my back slide down the wall and sit cross-legged on the floor as memories of our conversation last night come flooding back to me.

A lot of what he said last night was correct. I did pile a heap of steaming emotion at his feet – in the middle of the patio at the Three Beans – and then walk away. I didn't let him talk – he stammered around a bit, but I didn't ask him how he felt about anything.

I stand up and go into the living room to find my phone. Once I have it, I check the door. The deadbolt isn't locked, of course, but he did lock the handle when he left.

I'm too chicken to call him, even though I'm sure he'll be up. He's such a freaking early-riser. I smile to myself recalling our compromise on sleeping in: Saturdays up early for a run; Sundays sleep late. Occasionally, I gave up my Sunday sleep for Riley or for Ned's roaming hands. But I didn't mind either of those interruptions.

I spend several minutes composing a text, which is a ridiculous amount of time given what it ends up saying.

***Thx for the hangover cures. Relief is imminent.**

I swallow the ibuprofen I've been carrying around and head to my bedroom, carrying my Coke and my phone. I'm not really expecting him to reply, but I keep it with me anyway.

He replies a few minutes later, but it's not really an opening for further discussion.

***You're welcome. Take care. **

Shit. I'd like to revisit last night's conversation, but soberly and calmly... and when I wasn't going to puke my guts up in two minutes.

***Would like to talk to you. Can I call?**

I wait anxiously, biting my thumbnail, sitting in my bed.

***No. Sorry, Bella. I'm done. **

This time I give in to the pain willingly, crying as it claws through my chest, shredding my already-bruised heart. I cry for a long time, and then sleep most of the day away. When I wake up late in the afternoon, the hangover is gone, but the heartache remains.

* * *

For the next three weeks, I follow the same routine: work, wine, sleep, repeat. Except on the weekends, when I hit the bars either with Jas and Em or with Jess and the other girls from work. I don't eat much. I exercise even less. I know I can't continue on this unhealthy path indefinitely, but for now it's working for me.

I bounce back and forth between numbness and misery. I try not to think of Edward too often, but it seems as if he's always lurking at the edges of my mind. Several times a day something makes me think of him, or something happens that I want to tell him… and I have to remind myself that our arrangement is over.

On the third Thursday, Emmett pressures me to come with him to dinner with a potential client. I have met with this client, Aro, a couple of times before and helped Emmett write the ad proposal for the chain of high-end jewelry stores that Aro owns with his brother.

"Come on, Bell," Emmett begs, standing in my office doorway. "Help me woo this guy. You're good at it. And Aro is smitten with you, you know."

Yes, I know. He's made it abundantly clear during the meetings I've attended at his office. He's had rare pieces of jewelry brought into his office for me to try on. He's admired the necklace my dad gave me and the bracelet Edward gave me to the point that I know he's trying to _make_ points. I've been polite to him, but not encouraging.

Sighing, I look down at the bracelet hanging around my wrist. I know I shouldn't be wearing it anymore, but I can't bring myself to take it off except to shower… or run, on the rare occasions I exercise lately. Angela comes by and asks me to run with her almost every day, but I usually turn her down. It makes me sad that I'm isolating myself from the one close female friend I have, but I do it anyway.

Reluctantly, I agree to go with Emmett and Aro, shrugging when Emmett asks where I'd like to eat. I don't really care about much these days.

Emmett and I meet Aro at his store on the north side of downtown. After showing Aro the mock-ups we've been working on, we head out to dinner, letting Aro choose the restaurant.

We've just been seated at Milano Italian Ristorante when I glimpse a tuft of brown, messy hair coming in the front door. Shit. I allow myself to look at him for five full seconds – he's still beautiful, standing out from the three other men who came in with him. He's wearing my favorite gray, chalk-stripe suit with a black tie and smiling slightly at something one of the other men says. I study the other men for a second, but don't recognize any of them.

Afraid to be seen, I hold the menu up in front of my face for a couple of minutes, ignoring Emmett and Aro while hoping like hell that Edward and company aren't seated anywhere near us. I slowly peek around the side of the menu before lowering it to make sure they're gone. Satisfied that they've been seated in the other part of the restaurant, I try to relax and charm the pants off Aro... well, I don't want his pants off. I just want his signature on the contract. Still, I'm attentive, interested, and complimentary throughout the meal, which earns me a quick arm squeeze from Emmett when Aro's not looking.

I mouth, "You owe me," at him and he smiles and winks my way as he nods. Seeing Emmett's dimples makes me smile and I continue my effort with Aro when he turns my way again.

After we've eaten, I excuse myself to the ladies' room. I'm grateful the bathrooms are near where we're seated so I don't have to run the gauntlet past all the other tables... don't have to walk past the table where the person I don't want to see is sitting.

Of course, since I have terrible luck, Edward is exiting the men's room as I enter the restroom hallway. When I see the look of irritation settle on his face, I brace myself.

"Are you following me?" he snaps as I approach him, his eyes jade disks.

I roll my eyes dramatically and sigh before I answer him. "Oh, Jesus, Edward. The world doesn't revolve around you. Emmett and I are here with a client… and I was here first – I saw you come in," I hiss, turning sideways to get past him in the narrow hallway. "Arrogant asshole," I mumble under my breath… but loudly enough for him to hear.

"No semi?" he asks quietly, almost sounding hurt. What the hell? He was pissed off ten seconds ago.

I raise one eyebrow at him, but don't say anything.

"Bella," he begins, putting his arm in front of me to block my way.

"Edward, I actually need to use the bathroom," I say impatiently.

"Sorry. Go ahead. I'll wait," he says.

Perfect.

I honestly expect him to be gone by the time I come out. I take my time, reapplying lipstick and powdering my shiny forehead. I'm startled when I open the door and Edward is leaning against the wall. When he sees me coming, he pushes himself upright to face me. I sigh quietly as I approach him.

"Hey," he says softly.

"Hey," I say brusquely.

"Can we talk for a minute?" he asks hesitantly.

"Edward, what is there to say? We've said it all," I answer.

"You look great," he says. He sounds sad.

"Thanks. Edward, I have to get back to my table," I say.

"Okay, sorry. Can I call you?" he asks.

"What for, Edward? I'm not trying to be mean, but you made it pretty clear that you were done…._we_ were done... weeks ago. Why do you want to call me now?" I ask. Fuck. Looking at him, I feel like my heart is breaking all over again.

"I miss you," he says, shrugging and putting his hands in his pockets.

"I miss you, too," I whisper, still unable to lie to him. I should have kept my mouth shut though.

"God, Stel, I miss everything…the way you laugh, the way you call me names, the way you ramble on about anything," he laughs nervously, clearly encouraged by my admission. "I miss having you in my house."

"Edward, I can't," I whisper, looking down and hoping to keep the tears at bay through sheer will. I look back up and meet his gaze. "I can't."

"But you just said you miss me, too," he argues.

I nod. "Have you talked to Jack?" I ask.

He lowers his eyes immediately, so I know the answer before he speaks. "No, but if you just let me explain-," he asserts, raising his eyes to meet mine again.

"I have to go," I interrupt, shaking my head. I don't want to hear again how complicated everything is. He's still not willing to stand up to Jack and I'm still not willing to settle for less.

I take a step toward him, starting to pass him, and then impulsively reach out. I reach one hand up to rest on his cheek, relishing the warm current that flows across my skin. He closes his eyes and leans into my hand. I would give almost anything to be able to throw caution to the wind and pick back up with him, but I know we would end up right back here someday.

"Goodbye, Edward." I pull my hand away and walk past him just as Aro comes into the hallway, smiling at me.

"Bella, I was just coming to check on you. Emmett's getting the car," he says. He looks at Edward warily. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, Aro. I was just catching up with an old friend. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. Let's go," I say, walking to Aro. I don't flinch when he puts his hand on the small of my back to guide me back out into the restaurant and I don't look back at Edward... even though I want to.

* * *

Late the next Friday afternoon, I'm proofing copy on a new print ad for Hale Software at my desk when I hear a knock on the doorjamb.

"Yeah?" I say absently, not looking up from the ad on my desk. The knocker doesn't answer except to clear his throat, so I finally raise my eyes.

And scream.

"Jesus, Bell. It's me," Emmett says, pulling off the Jason hockey mask and laughing.

"Emmett, you idiot!" I say loudly, sprawling backward in my chair and raising my right hand to rest over my racing heart, feeling the adrenaline rush through me. He walks around my desk and takes my wrist, feeling for my pulse, clearly amused by the reaction he achieved. "What are you doing with that fucking mask, psycho?"

"Today's Halloween, Bell," he remarks off-handedly, as if that explains why he would try to scare the shit out of me. "Damn, your heart rate is off the charts. And Jason's from _Friday the 13__th_, not _Psycho_." He laughs at his own crappy joke and leans casually against my desk.

"Shut up, asshole," I grumble. "Do you want something or were you just trying to make me pee my pants?"

"Did you really pee?" he asks, bending forward to examine my bare legs for evidence.

"No." Just barely.

He straightens back up. "Good. Because we're going to dinner to celebrate and you don't have time to change. You look good in that, anyway," he says, motioning to my black skirt and white, wrap-around shirt.

"What are _we_ celebrating?" I ask, looking up at him.

"Just got off the phone with Aro. They signed the contracts. You and I are taking Aro and his brother, Caius, to dinner at Harry's," he says nonchalantly, but he's watching me intently to see my reaction.

Slowly, a wide grin spreads across my face. "No shit?" I ask.

"No shit," he answers, laughing when I jump out of my chair and into his arms. This contract is huge for us. Not as big as Hale Software, but a great local contract.

Since Harry's isn't too far from my apartment, Emmett suggests I drop my car off at home and ride with him, promising he'll bring me back after dinner. Since parking at Harry's is a pain in the ass, I readily agree.

Aro and Caius are already waiting at the restaurant when we arrive. All of us are in great moods at dinner. Both Aro and Caius seem nice... Caius is a little more laid-back than Aro and I like him immediately. I plot to use my wooing of Aro last week to bully Emmett into letting me work on this account and drop the Hale account after the holidays. Emmett can handle Hale on his own.

Since my arrangement with Edward ended, I've had two meetings at Hale Software, both with Jack and Alec. Edward was out of town both times, which was fine with me. I was tense in both meetings. I didn't expect Jack to say anything to me about my relationship with Edward, but I was afraid the dynamic between us would be weird. Surprisingly, it wasn't... which made me more uncomfortable.

Jack was normal with me, making small talk, telling me funny stories. He mentioned that Edward was in New York – both times – and had been there quite a bit lately, but he didn't say why... not that it's any of my business. He complimented me on how well the campaign has gone and expressed his gratitude, but was never inappropriate. After both meetings, I left perplexed, wondering how he hides his disdain for the friendship Edward and I had.

"Bell? Bella?" Emmett says, reaching over to touch my shoulder.

"Huh?" I say, snapping out of my daydream.

"Are you done? Ready to go?" he asks, looking at me with concern.

"Yeah," I say quickly, then think better about it. "No, actually. Why don't we go next door for an after-dinner drink?"

"You want to go to the cigar bar?" Aro asks incredulously.

I turn to smile at him. "Mmhmm," I answer. I'm not ready to go home and I've always wanted to invade the masculine-looking bar next door.

They all agree and we walk next door and find a table. We order a bottle of red wine, which doesn't last too long between the four of us, so we order another. I will have a headache for sure in the morning, but I'm having too much fun at the moment to care.

I'm into my third glass of wine, listening intently to the story Caius is telling about a diamond-buying trip, when Emmett returns from the restroom and retakes his seat beside me. As soon as there's a lull in the conversation, he touches my forearm where it's resting on the arm of my chair, and leans over toward me.

"Bella, Edward's here. He's over in the back corner with some of the guys from Hale," he says softly. I shrug and make a snotty face, which makes Emmett laugh. "Just giving you a heads up," he defends, then sits back up in his own chair. Aro and Caius get up and go up to the bar to get cigars.

I try not to outwardly react, but my stomach starts to tie itself in knots. I can't believe how horrible my luck is. Seriously, which god did I piss off?

I follow my usual pattern... snark. "I guess that's what I get for coming to a guy's cigar bar. Whose idea was this?" I say, turning to look at Emmett and giggling.

"Yours," Emmett says, laughing with me. "But when you need to go to the bathroom, I can walk you so you don't have to see him alone."

"Thanks, Em, but I'm going to have to be a big girl someday," I say. "I can handle Edward Cullen. Did he see you?"

"Um, yeah. He followed me to the bathroom to ask about you," he admits.

I close my eyes and swallow, wishing Emmett would tell me what Edward said... because I don't want to ask. But he doesn't. "Did you tell him I'm here?" I ask instead.

"Nope. He never asked me that," Emmett replies as his deep dimples split his cheeks.

"Okay. I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be right back," I say, cringing at how obvious this is, but I want to see him. The question is: Do I want _him_ to notice _me_? I'm wearing my lucky black skirt – the same one I was wearing the day I met him – and my legs look good in the heels I'm wearing. I'm also having a good hair day. So I guess I do want him to notice. I walk quickly on the way there, sparing a quick glance at his table. I don't think he sees me, but on my way back he definitely does. His eyes widen when our eyes meet. I smile at him but make no other acknowledgement of his existence.

Suddenly, Aro is beside me, putting a hand on my back and telling me quietly – so he has to lean in close – that he's enjoying this bar. I smile up at him and give some bullshit answer about good clients and good friends, not really paying attention to him because I can feel Edward's gaze still resting on me. But I laugh at Aro's reply because I want Edward to think I'm enjoying myself even though I feel nauseous now.

When we get back to the table, Emmett has ordered shots – whiskey for the guys and something sweet for me – and Caius bought cigars for all of us. I down my shot and light my cigar, puffing on it a little just to entertain the fellas before stubbing it out and holding it between my teeth like Groucho Marx. My demeanor is deteriorating as I'm becoming more tipsy and I do little more than giggle for the next few minutes... until I'm suddenly aware of someone standing beside my chair and I know without looking who it is. It sounds cheesy, but I can feel him when he's close to me.

I tilt my head back to look up at him, grinning around the cigar stub still in my mouth and cradling my glass of red wine in one hand. He smiles amusedly down at me, then speaks to Emmett and introduces himself to Aro and Marcus.

"Bella, may I speak with you for a moment?" he asks politely, still smiling.

Fucking hell. Here we go again. There's not a graceful way for me to get out of it though, so I assent and lead him to the bar where we sit on adjacent barstools. I face forward, but turn my head to look at him. He's sitting sideways, his entire body facing me.

"What's up, Ned?" I ask, talking around my cigar, trying to keep my tone light.

He grins crookedly at me. "Nice cigar, Stella. I took you for more of a Virginia Slims type."

I laugh, pleased that this exchange is, so far, not as dramatic as the last time we saw each other. It was only eight days ago, but to my traitorous heart, it feels like it's been years since our gazes were connected the way they are now.

I pull the cigar out of my mouth and study it for a second before I answer him. "Nah. I'm strictly whatever the heck this thing is," I say, shrugging as I lay the cigar down on a napkin on top of the bar. He nods and I see that he's becoming more serious. Damn. I knew it was too good to last.

"Who are the guys at your table?" he asks, sounding a little pissy.

"Clients," I respond slowly, cautiously.

"You always let clients whisper to you and touch you?" Yup, definitely pissy. I raise both my eyebrows at his tone, then lower them and break into a fake smile.

"Why so serious, Ned? You afraid someone else is getting the Edward Cullen special?" I throw out, hurt at what I think he's implying. "Well, no worries. That was a one-time-only offer. No more schtupping the clients for me." I smile widely at him, unwilling to let him know that he's getting to me. He shakes his head at me, but smiles back, clearly not understanding that I'm not amused by this. I take a drink of my wine, willing away the crying fit that I feel bubbling up from my chest.

"You're tipsy, huh? I really want to talk to you... alone... privately. Can I come over later?" he asks, motioning for the bartender to bring us waters.

How come we're never on the same page at the same time? When I wanted to talk to him, he refused. Now that he wants to talk to me, I don't know if I can bring myself to reopen the wound.

"Edward, I don't think it's a good idea," I say sadly. "I can't keep opening and shutting this door. It's too hard." I set the wine down and take a big drink of the water now in front of me.

He sighs heavily. "Will you at least think about it? I'll come anytime – anywhere. I just need twenty minutes and then I'll leave you alone for good if you want. I promise," he says earnestly.

"I'll think about it," I reply. "I've got to go now."

"Okay. I really hope I hear from you, Bella," he says quietly. I nod as I stand up from my stool. I notice that Ned starts to reach out and make sure I'm steady, but pulls his hands back before he touches me.

Wryly, I realize nothing has changed. No touching in public. No sitting too close in public. I don't want to go back to that… to someone who's ashamed of being with me. My mood is bitter by the time I reach my table.

Aro stands to pull my chair out for me. "Bella, is that an old boyfriend? We've run into him twice now and he seems very interested in you," Aro says, fishing for information.

I'm upset and I am prone to fits of immaturity, but that's no excuse for what I say next.

"No, Aro. That guy was never my boyfriend," I say with a bitter laugh, loudly enough that Edward hears as he's walking by. He doesn't look over at me, but the look that crosses his face is so full of hurt that I wish I could take it back. Emmett looks at me, surprised that I would say something so mean within Edward's earshot. Emmett frowns at me, which makes me tear up.

I regret my statement instantly and would like to apologize to Edward. No, wait. Apologize for what? I said it in a cruel way, but it _is _the truth. He wasn't my boyfriend, even though we fell into a relationship that felt a hell of a lot like a romantic one. But it was short-lived. The last few weeks of our relationship were spent in seclusion. I wasn't prepared for how badly that hurt.

I am prepared to get the hell out of here though. I lean over and tell Emmett that I'm going home.

"Do you want me to take you?" he asks somberly.

"No, thanks. I'll get a cab. I'll call you tomorrow," I smile sadly at him, then put on a brighter smile for Aro and Caius. Aro is not happy that I'm cutting out, but I can't bring myself to care right now. He gets me to agree to dinner after our meeting next week. What the hell? I don't have anything else to do in the evenings now anyway.

* * *

When I get home, I shower to wash the cigar smell away, then put on my comfiest gray yoga pants and a pink tank top. I get in bed and try to read, but can't concentrate… can't absorb the words on the page. I wait as long as I can, but at 10:30, I pull on the Mariners hoody that my dad gave me for my birthday and get in my car to drive to the place I thought I'd never go again.

I park on the street and walk slowly up to the front porch, noting that the planters are gone. It's too chilly now for the flowers I planted last summer. I step to the porch swing and run a finger along the cold chain, then walk to the front door. Standing there, I almost chicken out, but I can hear the stereo on inside. Van Morrison. One of Edward's favorites. I want to be in there with him. I take a deep breath and push the doorbell.

I hear him walk to the door; he must have peeked out the other window because he doesn't hesitate, opening the door wide.

"Bella?" he asks tentatively.

"Are you expecting someone else?" I ask. Oh, God. I hadn't even thought of that option until right this minute. I will be horrified if a new sex buddy is on her way here.

"No!" he answers hastily. "No. Come in. I'm not expecting anyone." I step into the dimly-lit entry and he shuts and locks the door behind me, then turns to face me.

"Bella," he exhales, his voice laden with relief, "I'm so glad you're here. I need to tell you-."

I shake my head no as I take a step closer to him and place my fingers gently on his lips. We are standing almost chest to chest now, looking into each other's eyes.

I feel like a recovering addict… staring at my old drug of choice, craving it... wanting it... not caring about the consequences. I'm tired of fighting against the desire. I can't stand to be in Edward's presence anymore and not be touching him, kissing him.

"I don't want to hear it right now," I say quietly. He reaches up and pulls out the hair tie holding my hair up in a messy bun, dropping the elastic band to the floor and then running his fingers through my hair as it tumbles down around my shoulders.

I'm not sure which of us makes the first move, or if we are still so acutely aware of each other's desires that we move exactly together like we used to, but suddenly our arms are around each other and our lips are crushed together. Edward's lips are soft and urgent against mine. When our mouths open and our tongues meet again and again, the surge of emotion in my chest is nearly impossible not to verbalize. But I can't say it... not now... not again.

I feel the tears well behind my eyelids and start to roll down my face. Hoping Edward won't notice, I kiss him more passionately and move one of my hands up to grip his hair. He must feel the wetness on my cheeks though because he pulls back, looking at me with a slight frown as he brushes his thumbs across my cheekbones.

"Baby," he says gruffly, sounding like he's in pain.

"Shut up, Edward. I swear to God if you don't shut up, I'm leaving," I say. I sound angry… I guess I am angry, but I don't know why. I reach between us to unzip my jacket and drop it to the floor, then kick off my shoes behind me. I put my arms around Edward's neck and climb him until he puts his hands under my ass, letting me wrap my legs around him like I wanted. He turns and walks us over to the couch, lying me down gently and settling on top of me, still kissing me.

When I grab the hem of his shirt, he sits up and pulls it over his head, then dives back down to my lips. When we're both breathing heavily, he kisses down my neck, slipping one strap of my tank off my shoulder and lowering it to get to my breast. He uses his tongue to circle the hardened peak until I whimper and arch my back. Sensing my need, Edward closes his mouth over me and sucks fiercely for a moment as I bury both hands in his hair.

"I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so much," he says against my skin, his words spurring more tears. I grab his face and pull it back to mine, letting my kiss speak the words I cannot: I missed you, too... I love you.

We kiss fervently until I pull my mouth away, kissing across his jaw and down his neck as I skim down his back with my fingernails and slip my hands inside the waistband of his jeans and boxers. I shift my legs farther apart, allowing him to press his hips against mine. Both of us moan quietly as we move against each other.

"God… Edward," I groan. He pushes back onto his knees, reaching for the waistband of my pants. He slides the pants and my underwear down my legs, then pushes his jeans and boxers off, too.

"Come here," he says, grabbing my wrists to pull me until I'm sitting up. He glides his hands up my ribcage as he pulls my tank top off. "You're so beautiful."

He leans forward to kiss me and we lie back down together. Edward's fingers move down the outside of my left leg and then back up the inside. When he reaches between my legs, I sigh and push my hips against his hand.

After only a few strokes, he removes his hand and lines his hips up with mine. As he prepares to press into me, I stop him.

"Wait," I say. "Have you been with anyone else?" I don't really care at this point, but he's not going bare if he's been with someone since me.

His green gaze is intense as he looks down at me. "No, Stel. I only want you," he insists. Sniffling, I nod and slide my hands down to his lower back to urge him forward.

He thrusts into me, holding still for an instant before beginning to move forcefully. I dig my fingernails into his skin as my hips rise to meet his, crashing into him again and again. Balancing himself on his left arm, he uses his right hand to grab my left arm, pulling at it until I move it from his lower back. He glides his fingers down my arm until he reaches my hand and we interlock our fingers. He shifts his gaze from my face to my arm.

"You still wear it," he observes, looking at the charm bracelet dangling from my wrist. When he looks back at me, I nod, not trusting myself to say anything... not wanting him to know that I rarely remove it.

Raising our joined hands to his lips, he kisses down the side of my hand to the inside of my wrist, then places his open mouth over the sensitive skin there. Using his tongue, he traces a circle on my skin and slips his tongue in between my wrist and the charm bracelet. At the sensation of his warm, wet tongue licking across my skin, a flash of pleasure blasts through me and I feel my inner muscles tighten.

"Fuck. Stel," he moans against my wrist, then closes his lips over my skin and the bracelet and begins to suck powerfully, drawing rhythmically on my skin in time with his thrusts.

"Oh, God... God... Ned," I pant. He doesn't answer me except to move his hips faster... to push into me more roughly. Our eyes stay locked on each other's until I can't keep mine open any longer and let them slide closed. I feel myself building toward a climax and gasp his name as intense pleasure rushes through me.

He breathes in then and removes his mouth from my bracelet and wrist, lowering our joined hands to rest on the couch beside my head, as he stills his hips to let me ride out my orgasm. Once my breathing slows a bit, I open my eyes and he begins thrusting again... slowly... pulling almost all the way out before sliding smoothly back in. After only a few thrusts, I'm moving with him, whimpering as he continues the slow torture. Finally, he speeds up again, driving me quickly into another peak.

"Ahhh... Edward," I cry out.

"Christ, Bella," he grunts as he thrusts twice more and then comes, putting his lips back to mine as he holds himself inside me, shuddering lightly. We kiss languidly as our breathing returns to normal and then he pulls away, burying his face in my neck. We're still holding hands and he slowly pulls his fingers away from mine, then wraps his hand around my wrist and the bracelet, rolling it lightly against my skin.

"I love you," he whispers, then presses his lips softly against my neck and sighs.

Instead of inciting my own declaration of love, his words have little effect on me. I don't believe him. I can't allow myself to believe him. If he loved me, wouldn't he have come after me when I left? We've been apart for over a month. He came to my apartment once, but that was it. No other visits. No phone calls. No texts. It's been killing me to stay away from him. Wouldn't he feel the same if he loved me? I just don't think it's true.

But even though I don't believe him, I will allow myself to lie here with him for a little while and _pretend_ it's true. I put both arms around him, hugging him tightly as I feel his lips turn up into a smile against my skin. In this moment, I hate myself; hate knowing that I will soon break my own heart – and maybe his – by refusing to take a chance on him, refusing to give him a chance to hurt me again.

I let him roll us to our sides and cover us with the soft blanket from the back of the couch. I let him kiss my cheeks and lips, then pull me to his chest and cradle me like I'm precious to him. I let him fall asleep smiling while I doze lightly, never falling into a deep sleep.

Much later, I feel his mouth on my neck, his hands on my breasts. When I begin to respond to his caresses, he moves his lips to mine and rolls me to my back.

"Baby, God, I need you," he murmurs against my lips. I wrap my legs around him and inhale sharply as he pushes inside me. He puts his arms under my upper body, wrapping his hands around my shoulders, holding my chest close to his as we move together slowly... tenderly. Tears pour silently from the corners of my eyes again. I know this will be the last time. I have to leave as soon as he goes back to sleep. Briskly, I wipe them away as he raises up to look at me.

I run my hands through his hair… trace the perfect lines of his face as he smiles down at me… pull on his neck until he puts his lips back to mine and kisses me sweetly. I hope he knows that I still love him…I hope he realizes it later – that I did.

After our passion cools, he shifts us around so that I'm facing away from him and he's spooning me, holding me against his chest and pressing soft kisses to the back of my neck.

"Are you okay, Stella?" he whispers.

I'm not. But I can't tell him that. Instead, I nod and reach for his hand to intertwine our fingers. He sighs into my hair and I hear his breathing become deep and even a few minutes later. I don't sleep again, trying to savor these last few moments I have with him. At five o'clock, I carefully move his arm off me and get up, redressing quickly in the dark and trying not to wake him. I walk to the door, slipping my shoes on and picking up my hoody from the floor.

I think I'm going to make a successful escape until I hear the voice behind me.

"You're not even saying goodbye?" he asks, his voice steely and rough with sleep.

_I can't turn around. I won't turn around._

Instead, I answer quietly, "Edward, we both know that's what the sex was for. There's nothing else left to say."

I pull my hoody on, concentrating on the zipper, still facing the door.

"So, it doesn't matter to you? My feelings for you – what I want – just doesn't fucking matter at all?" he demands.

Finally I give in, turning to face him, and see him standing beside the couch, holding the blanket around his waist. The look on his face – part anger, part sadness – rips at my heart.

"You can't decide what you want. Every time I see you you're hot and cold. You're a jerk one minute and sweet the next," I explain. It's partly true, partly bullshit. I just want to leave before this situation deteriorates any further. "I can't do it, Edward. I can't continue to be tied up in knots all the time. I need to move on."

"I'm sorry about how I've acted, but didn't you hear what I said to you last night?" he implores. He doesn't repeat it though.

"I heard you. It's too late, Edward. It doesn't matter anymore," I answer.

"You aren't in love with me anymore?" he asks quietly.

"No," I lie. I turn toward the door, resting my head against it, letting the tears flow now that he can't see.

"Then get the fuck out," he says lowly, his voice full of contempt.

I unlock and open the door, then step out onto the porch, pulling the door shut behind me. I rush down the steps and sidewalk to my car, not allowing myself to look back at the house. I won't be able to take it if he's watching me go… and I won't be able to take it if he's not.

* * *

As I'm driving home, the street lights shine through the windshield, regularly illuminating the interior of the car before it goes dark again. While it's lit, I catch a glimpse of something on the inside of my left wrist. Stopped at a red light, I hold my wrist up to my face to see what it is. It's Edward. He marked me. I had forgotten, but an inky bruise mars the pale skin, cut horizontally by an even darker thin line from the bracelet.

I stay stopped at the light studying the blue-black blotch for several minutes... knowing it will fade faster than the mark Edward left on my heart.

* * *

**A/N #2: Trust me. **

**Next chapter: Bella goes to Texas.**

**Chapter 19 will be the prologue from Edward's point of view.**


	18. Regrets

**A/N: Thanks for your patience! Real life kicked me hard last month - husband traveled for almost three weeks straight, leaving me with three monsters...um, I mean three lovely children. :) Between them and a rapidly increasing workload at the office, my writing time took a big nosedive. **

**Big thanks to Windgirl810 who performs freaky beta voodoo on everything I send her. On top of that, she's a fantastic, funny person! I'm so lucky. ;)**

**I'm also grateful to my pre-readers for this chap: Michelle0526 and littlecat358. You both rock!**

**Lots of people have been pimpin' this story. Thanks to all of you - and to insanemum, who wrote a fabu rec for me on twificpimps.**

**Also, evieeden made me a beautiful banner. I'm gonna attempt to post a link on my profile page...but I'm techno-backward, so give me a day.**

**CullenCrazy01 started a thread on the forums at Twilighted. Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: Twilight is hers. Ned and Stella are mine. **

**Ned's POV is next... it's almost done... and if you review this chapter, you'll get a tease. :) I know, it's blatant bribery. **

* * *

Chapter 18: Regrets

* * *

When I get home, I go straight to the shower. As I stand under the almost-scalding spray, I wish that the soap and water could erase my memories as easily as they wash away the physical evidence of what I've done. I wish I couldn't remember Edward's eager hands… his gentle lips… his intense gaze. His whispered words of love.

His final, callous words of hate.

I hurt him last night... and I hurt him again this morning. Last night at the cigar bar was kind of an accident. I said something true in a cruel way, not thinking that he would overhear. But this morning was different – I said it _to_ him. And I knew when I said it that I would hurt him... make him feel rejected and unloved... but I did it anyway.

I'm sure that's why he told me to get out the way he did. He's never talked to me like that before. He never talks to anyone like that. He was being honest on the night we met when he told me he has impeccable manners. I haven't seen him be outright rude to anyone except Jamie. Cool and brusque, yes. Rude, no. Malicious, never.

Until this morning.

I lied to him, turning away before I did... knowing I wouldn't be able to lie while looking at him. So I can only imagine what his face – his eyes – looked like as he spit those last venomous words at me... can only imagine how deeply I wounded him for him to say what he did... _how_ he did.

Oh, my God. What did I do? What did I do?

I lean my forehead against the cool, smooth tiles lining the shower wall and let the hot tears fall. When the water begins to cool a few minutes later, I turn it off and step out of the shower, barely drying myself before I pull on flannel pajama pants and a soft t-shirt.

* * *

I lie on my couch all day, listening as the steady rain falling outside pings softly against the windows. It's the only sound I hear other than my heartbeat, my breathing. I lie still and quiet as the pain washes through me in waves, sometimes quick and strong, sometimes slow and dull.

Periodically, I turn my eyes away from the ceiling to look at the patio door, watching as some raindrops hit the glass and stay suspended in perfect little circles while others slide slowly down to puddle at the bottom. That's me, I think, watching one of the sliders. There I go, sliding, sliding… I don't know how to stop. I thought I had been at the depths of heartbreak before – after Jake and I broke up – but that was nothing compared to this. I felt humiliated after what Jake did, but I never felt this... emptiness. It's a new low.

Outside, the dark, gray clouds match my mood; I completely ignore the insistent vibrating of my phone, knowing it won't be Edward… and not wanting to speak to anyone else. How fucked up is that? After the things we said to each other at the end this morning, I still just want _him_.

Eventually, in the late afternoon, I get up and walk to the kitchen. I make myself a strong vodka soda, and then another… and then another. I keep drinking until I can't feel the pain… until I can't feel anything.

* * *

The next two weeks are a blur of work and booze. I'm going out every night. Jessica says I'm finally living my twenties the way I'm supposed to. Each morning she laughs when I say I won't go out that night, predicting that when five o'clock rolls around – when I face the prospect of going home alone to my empty, dark apartment – I'll change my mind. And I do.

I hide my evening activities from Em and Jas by always getting drunk early enough that my hangover the next morning is minimal. I have bottles of Visine stashed in my purse and my desk to ward off the pink-tinged eyes. I rely on caffeine to give me the energy to make it through the afternoons. I've gone from drinking a cup or two of coffee every morning to ordering a venti cappuccino with an extra shot three times a day.

Both Em and Jas look at me with narrowed-eye stares almost daily… like they know something's off. When they ask me – repeatedly – if I'm doing okay, I laugh off their worries, downplay my depression and tell them I'm bouncing back. And if the definition of bouncing back is freefalling uncontrollably down to rock bottom, then I'm being truthful.

We keep our once-weekly dinner dates, but I leave as soon as we're finished eating to meet Jess and the girls. Of course, I don't tell my boys that; I tell them that I'm going to run with Angela. At least my newfound talent for lying is coming in handy. I don't think Em and Jas have a clue that I'm drinking like this again... like I did after I broke up with Jake.

Angela, on the other hand, knows what I'm up to and routinely tries to get me to do something with her in the evening instead. I'm not interested. I used to love to run, but now that's just too much time for introspection. I know I'm losing muscle tone – and weight – because I'm not exercising and not eating well. I don't care. Angela tries to take me to dinner or the movies – anywhere I'll go, she says - but I continue to push her away.

On the second Saturday, I'm in my bathroom getting ready to head out with Jessica and Lauren again. Angela is sitting on the closed lid of the toilet watching me and trying to talk me out of going out to clubs tonight.

"We're not clubbing, Ang. We're going to a sports bar to watch USC and somebody play football... or maybe it's Notre Dame and somebody," I say flippantly, shrugging my shoulders as I lean close to the mirror to put mascara on. "Maybe it's Notre Dame against USC," I remark with a laugh when I'm done, turning my head to look at Angela. She's not amused.

"But, really… Jessica again? You don't even like her," Angela argues, scrunching her pretty face in confusion at me... or maybe it's distaste. Whatever.

"Jess is okay," I reply, straightening back up and tossing my tube of mascara back into my makeup bag. That's kind of a lie. I don't like her much, but she supports my plan to use alcohol to forget about Edward, so for the moment, she's in. I glide lipstick across my lips while still looking at Ang.

"Bella, I don't know who you are anymore. This behavior isn't you – and it's going to end up hurting you. I can't watch it anymore," she says seriously, her dark brown eyes pleading with me. I feel a twinge of something painful in my chest, but quash it forcefully.

"Then don't," I reply snarkily. When I see the shocked, hurt look on her face, I immediately regret my words. Embarrassed, I turn back to the mirror to finish getting ready. She gets up silently and leaves the room. I hear the door to my apartment click shut soundly a few seconds later.

Shit. I close my eyes and swallow uncomfortably. Well, I can't let it bother me tonight. Opening my eyes, I lean forward across the vanity again to make sure there's no lipstick on my teeth, then grab my ID, credit card and phone. When I shut my apartment door, I pause and look over at Angela's, wondering if I should go talk to her... but the desire to numb my heartbreak wins out over the desire to save my friendship. Shaking my head in disgust at myself, I turn and walk toward the elevator, not bothering to look back.

* * *

I take a cab to the bar where I'm meeting the girls. I'm not sure how long they've been here, but they're well on their way to getting completely smashed. I sit down and pour myself a beer from the pitcher, listening half-heartedly as they dissect the male population at the bar.

Two guys make eye contact with me. Could I? I wonder. No, I don't think so, even though a part of me wants to try… wants to see if I can forget Edward by losing myself in someone else for a little while.

Oh, what the hell? I smile back at the second guy and keep smiling as he approaches our table.

"Hi," he says. "Can I?" He points to the hi-top stool next to me and I use my foot to push it out so he can sit down. "I'm Colin."

"Bella," I say, smiling and shaking the hand he offers to me. He sits with us for two more pitchers of beer and a round of shots. I'm pretty tipsy, but for once the other girls are more drunk than me.

And then there's Colin. He's okay looking, but his dark brown eyes don't glow… don't make me feel… anything. He's turning into a sloppy drunk, too. Edward never did that. He would get a good buzz once in a while, but he never got completely trashed. Colin is slurring his words and putting his hands on me. I've removed his hand from my leg three times; now he's got an arm slung across my shoulders and his fingers are dipping dangerously low...past my collar bone. I shrug out from under him and excuse myself to the bathroom.

When I return, I know the answer to my question... I can't. At least not with Colin. He wasn't particularly interesting or quick-witted before he turned into a lush, but now there's not a chance.

Sighing, I look around the bar. It's a sea of young, good-looking faces, but not the face I want to see most. Fuck. Why is it always him? Being here – out with random drunk people – just makes me miss Edward more.

I feel the lump form in my throat immediately and am grateful that, for now, the tears stay at bay. What am I doing? I'm hanging out with people I barely like and don't have much in common with. I'm drinking too much. I'm ignoring my body... ignoring my real friends. And I don't even feel any better.

Suddenly, I know I need to go. I look over at Jess and Lauren. They are trashed... I can't just leave them here. I call a cab and convince them that it's time to go. Then I text Jasper to see what he's doing.

***Hanging at home, Baby Swan. Wanna come over?**

***Yes. I'll be there in 20.**

After the cab drops the others off, I give the cab driver Jasper's address and when we stop in front of his building, he's waiting outside for me. By the time I pay the cab driver, Jasper's standing at my door holding it open. I get out and walk straight into his arms, finally setting the tears free.

He leads me inside, letting me hide my face as we pass the security guard and get in the elevator. He doesn't ask me anything until I'm settled at one end of his couch with a glass of water and a blanket and he's settled at the other with a glass of scotch.

I tell him everything... ending with the amount of partying I'm doing to avoid dealing with all the other stuff I just told him. When I'm finally done, he exhales loudly and holds his arms out to me. I crawl across the couch and curl up next to him, wanting his comfort. He puts his arms around me and I lean my head on his shoulder.

"No wonder you've been acting so weird. But you kept saying everything was okay," he remarks gruffly. I swallow loudly, clutching the front of his t-shirt with my hand. "Jesus, Bella. You've never shut me out like this before. Why didn't you tell me all this crap was going on?"

He sounds irritated… I know he's upset with me, but I also know he won't yell at me tonight. I shrug my shoulders and mumble something that vaguely resembles "I don't know" as I burrow my face into the front of his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry you're hurt, Baby Swan. I wish I could fix it," he says sympathetically. I nod against his chest and he reaches one of his hands up to comb through my hair repeatedly… comfortingly. For the next several minutes, we sit in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

"I was so happy with him, Jas," I finally say softly.

"I know you were. But it wasn't reality," he insists.

"You're right. It was denial. I liked it there. _Here_ sucks," I say, smiling sardonically to myself when he laughs. After he quiets down, we sit in silence for a few minutes again.

"Maybe we should just fall in love, Bella," he says softly, breaking the stillness.

"Jas, we are in love…just not with each other," I answer. "I'm in love with Edward the asshole, and you're in love with the imaginary woman."

"But maybe we _should_ fall in love with each other. You're my best friend," he reasons.

I pull out of his arms so I can sit up and look at him. I resituate myself, sitting sideways, cross-legged on the couch, and reach for one of his hands.

"You're mine, too. And I'm not willing to risk that friendship on a romantic relationship that we both know won't work out," I say intently, even though he's just verbalized the same thoughts I've had before – before Edward. I probably could have a relationship with Jasper. We get along. We know each other so well. We love each other. He's really good-looking and I've overheard enough of his girlfriends over the years to know that he's good in bed.

But now – after Edward – I don't think I could. It wouldn't be enough to be comfortable. I couldn't stand not to have the passion, the intensity.

He sighs. "You know…I wonder…if we met now for the first time, if we hadn't already known each other all these years, if things would be different," he says, dropping his eyes down to our joined hands.

"I've wondered too, Jas. But I think they wouldn't. There is someone out there searching for you the same way you're searching for her….come on, where's the eternal optimist when I need him?" I chuckle and reach one hand up to ruffle his soft curls.

"Gets harder to be optimistic every day," he says, lifting his eyes back to mine. He breaks into a conniving grin. "Hey – maybe we should make one of those deals, you know, if we're both over 35 and not married, we'll marry each other. Get hitched, screw like crazy and make babies. We would make beautiful babies…my blue eyes, your dark hair."

I laugh loudly before I answer. "Hell, Jasper, the thought of birthing your babies makes my vadge sore. They'd probably come out wearing boots and spurs."

"Shit kickers," he says, laughing. "Sure would make Mama and Big Daddy happy, though."

"Oh, why didn't you say so? Okay, then!" I say enthusiastically before rolling my eyes at him. "That's a great proposal line, Jas. Marry me and make my _parents_ happy. You sure know how to romance a girl." I pat his cheek patronizingly.

We both laugh and I twist myself to the side to rest against him again. He puts his arms back around me, then he leans down to kiss the top of my head.

"You'll still come to Texas for Thanksgiving?" I nod. "You staying here tonight?" I nod again.

"All right. Gimme some sugar, sugar," he says. I reach up and peck his lips lightly, then put my arms around his neck to hug him tightly. I'm glad we kiss before we get in bed. We're both a little lonely, both a little depressed. I don't think it would be a good idea for us to kiss each other while horizontal. That's an invitation for disaster.

We get up and he gets me some shorts and a t-shirt to wear to bed. We've slept in the same bed a hundred times, but it feels strange to me now after spending so many nights with Edward. I feel like a cheater even though Edward and I aren't together.

We both crawl under the covers and he reaches over to hold my hand.

"You sure you don't want to screw and see if we like it?" he asks jokingly.

"If I said I wanted to, would you really?" I ask, smiling.

"No, probably not. Although I could most likely be talked into it," he answers, making both of us laugh. He raises our joined hands to his lips and kisses mine. "Goodnight, Baby Swan."

"Night, Jas," I answer.

I really have been lonely, so I'm surprised when I wake up during the night and I've scooted away from Jas. He's in the same spot where we fell asleep, but I've rolled almost to the edge of the side I'm lying on. I feel like crying. This is what falling in love with Edward has done to me. I'm ruined. I can't even snuggle with my best friend – which arguably isn't the best idea now anyway. But when Jas and I have slept in the same bed before, we've always slept touching... chastely.

I flop to my back and am startled when I hear the charms on my bracelet clink together; I don't usually wear the bracelet to bed. The sound seems loud in the otherwise silent room. Raising my left wrist above my face, I try to see it in the dim light, but can't see more than the faint glint of the platinum. Sighing quietly, I use my right hand to grasp and identify each charm, remembering the words Edward said about every one.

Tears quickly fill my eyes and begin to leak out, trailing down toward my temples. Trying to be quiet, I hold the sobs in, but I let the tears continue to flow as I remember how I felt that night… how he _made_ me feel: loved.

Now I spend my nights trying not to feel anything… but it's still there.

Damn you, Edward Cullen, wherever you are. I wish I could hate you.

* * *

Jasper and I fly to Texas on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, trying to beat the worst of the holiday travel rush at the airport. Big Daddy picks us up in his big, black Cadillac Escalade, wearing his big, black cowboy hat. He's tall and blue-eyed like Jas and still has a headful of wavy, light brown hair under his hat. He's as handsome as he was when I met him six years ago.

As soon as we're ensconced in his tinted-window vehicle and speeding north from DFW, Big Daddy starts in on us, questioning both of us about our lives. By the time we get to the ranch, he's grilled both Jas and me about work and about the status of our relationship more than once. We both declare ourselves happily single and uninvolved with each other, but he starts in with his "Texas is a great place to get hitched" speech anyway. I'm not sure if he thinks Jas and I are lying or if he thinks he can talk us into starting up with each other, but I can't take much more prodding about it today.

When he stops the car in front of the house to unload, I can't get out fast enough.

"Bella, you let me know if you change your mind, hear? I can get a preacher here in 24 hours," he calls, laughing, as I race up the porch steps and into Mama Whitlock's waiting arms.

"Now, now," she says, holding me tightly, "what's all this fussin' about? William Whitlock, what have you done to this poor girl?" I can't see Mama's face, but I've seen the look that usually accompanies the tone of voice she's using – and it's scary. Big Daddy isn't afraid of much, but he folds like a house of cards under Mama's evil eye.

I hear Big Daddy trying to explain in the background as Mama interjects an occasional "is that so?" or "mmhmm". I feel her shake her head back and forth as she clucks her tongue and then she turns me and pulls me into the house with her.

"Now, Bella, Big Daddy should have controlled his tongue. Sometimes I think that man doesn't have the sense that God gave a goose. But you know it's just because we all love you so much that we wish you and Jasper had something goin' on," she explains gently. We walk straight to the staircase and start climbing toward the second floor… toward the bedroom that has been dubbed "Bella's". It's more lacy and frilly than I normally like, but here… it just fits.

"I know, but I'm in love with someone else…and he doesn't love me back," I say, sniffling into the sleeve of my jacket as we enter the bedroom.

"You just tell Mama all about it, sweetheart," she says, leading me to the bed and sitting down with me on the white chenille bedspread.

She listens to the whole story of my relationship with Edward – except I don't tell her what I did on that final morning. She squeezes me several times, then when I'm done, she dispenses the best advice I may have ever heard.

"Bella, I don't know if anyone's ever told you, but men are stupid. Sugar, they're so dumb they could throw themselves on the ground and miss," she says seriously, holding my face gently between her two hands. "Now this man, if he's worth anything, will realize sooner or later what he's lost and come a-lookin' to get it back. When he does, you'll have to decide whether that's what _you_ want or not."

When I start to speak, she shakes her head and shushes me.

"That's an answer I don't expect – or want – you to come up with that quickly," she advises sagely. Then she breaks into the same grin that I've come to love when I see it on her youngest son's face. "Let's go eat chocolate pie until we're sick and I'll tell you _exactly_ how stupid Big Daddy was during the first year I knew him."

By the time we've each eaten a big slice of chocolate pie, I'm feeling much better. When Jasper's sister-in-law, Bree, joins us in the kitchen a bit later, Mama announces that it's time to start making pies for Thursday.

Bree is married to the second oldest brother, Jason, and they built a house on the ranch where they live with their two children. Bree is several months pregnant with their third and hopeful that this one will break the pattern and be a girl. She and Mama joke that they're tired of being the only womenfolk routinely around the ranch. Jasper's oldest brother and his wife have three daughters, but they live in Dallas, so we won't see them until Thursday.

As Mama starts on the piecrust, Bree and I peel and slice the apples. They fill me in on all the latest gossip – even though I don't know any of the parties involved.

"That Susie Effingham – you remember her, Bella? She was at Maria's wedding," Mama says, turning from the counter where she's rolling out pie crust to look at me. I tilt my head from side to side noncommittally until Mama turns back around.

"Best to just say yes to those questions, Bella," Bree whispers to me as we continue slicing apples. I giggle quietly and nod as I slide my eyes her way for a second.

"Well, I tell you true, she showed up at the fall festival looking like she'd been dragged through a hedge backward," Mama pronounces with a huff.

"The years have not been kind to her, Mama," Bree agrees, elbowing me lightly and smiling slyly. Bree knows how Mama's need to talk about the local women amuses me.

"Bless her heart, she can't help the fact that she's ugly," Mama says understandingly. "But, Lord almighty, she could have stayed home."

Bree and I laugh loudly, almost drowning out Mama's next words. "Now her younger sister, Maggie, is pretty as a picture. But I declare, that girl is just naturally horizontal," she states firmly. I laugh so hard I can't speak, but Bree, more used to these kinds of comments from Mama, is able to chime in.

"Mama, you know as well as I do who Maggie Effingham's been getting horizontal with lately," she chides. "Our very own Joey Whitlock."

Joey is the second youngest brother and widely-regarded as the local playboy. There probably isn't a woman under 35 years old in all of Grayson County who hasn't either invited Joey into her bed or actually had him there. Mama is horrified by his behavior. Big Daddy pretends to disapprove when Mama is around, but outside of her presence, he's generally known to be proud of the command his son has over the fairer sex.

As if on cue, the back door opens and Joey comes racing through, his hazel eyes shining and his blonde hair short and flattened from wearing the ball cap he's currently holding in his right hand. Jas follows a few steps behind, grinning widely at his big brother's back.

"There she is! My future wife," Joey says, raising his hand and the ball cap to cover his heart. He continues coming straight at me, grabbing me around the waist when he reaches me and dipping me backwards over his arm. "Hi, beautiful," he says quietly, looking into my eyes and then kissing my cheek. He sets me back upright, winking at me as I shake my head and murmur hello back to him.

"Joseph Wesley Whitlock, you mind your manners," Mama scolds from across the room. "You'll scare the wits out of poor Bella! I declare, sometimes I think you were raised by a pack of wild dogs."

"It's all right, Mama," I reply, smirking at Joey. "I'm used to his uncouth manners and devilish ways." Joey laughs loudly, pulling me into a hug and leaving dust marks where his chest presses against mine.

"Mama, y'all know I'm just a dirty ol' boy. And now I've gotten Bella to be dirty with me," he teases. Finally letting go of me, he turns to face his mama and say hello to Bree. "What time are Scott and Jer getting in?" he asks, picking up an apple peel from the cutting board in front of me and biting it.

"Big Daddy's on the way from the airport with them as we speak," Mama replies, smiling again when Joey whoops in excitement. "I say, the holidays are my favorite time. I'm cooking on the front burner today with so many of my kids at home."

Bree's husband, Jason, comes in the door next carrying a shopping bag. He kisses her, hands her the bag and tells her that he and their two sons are ready to go home. Bree kisses Mama's cheek and mine, then hands me the shopping bag.

"Wish we could go out to Shady's with y'all tonight, but I'm just so much more tired this time," she laments, rubbing a hand over her protruding stomach. "I want you to look like you fit in around here this year though, so I had Jason run down to the house and bring you some of my things."

We peek into the bag together and I laugh out loud. "Thanks, Bree. It's great. See you tomorrow," I say, hugging her lightly and waving goodbye as she walks out the door.

Once they leave, Joey heads out of the kitchen to take a shower, looking back at me over his shoulder. "Save me a seat by you, sugar," he says, winking. He's such a shameless flirt. The first couple of times I came to the ranch, I had no idea if he was serious or not. He's not. He's just a flirt, but the attention is flattering.

I follow Joey upstairs to change my shirt since he got me dusty. As I'm coming back down several minutes later, I hear Mama yelling that Jeremy and Scott have arrived. Jeremy and Scott own a B & B in Key West and can't always get away on holidays, so it's a treat for all of us that they're here for three nights. Their B & B, The Palms, is where Jas and I have vacationed a week each of the last four years.

When I get to the kitchen, they're still all hugging. I can hardly wait my turn – I love all the Whitlock boys, but besides Jas, Jer is my absolute favorite. He lets go of Jas quickly and steps over to me, picking me up and gripping me tightly.

"Baby Swan, you look good. You're too skinny though," he chuckles, tickling my ribs. I have regained some of the weight I lost earlier this fall since I stopped all the drinking and went back to exercising and eating regularly, but I know it will take a few more weeks to regain the muscle tone I lost. He lets me go and Scott pulls me into a hug. Scott is beautiful, too – dark skin, dark eyes, buff body. He hugs me tightly and asks when I'm coming to the Keys.

"I think February, right, Jas?" I answer.

"Hell, yeah. We have to be at a conference in Miami, then we're heading down. We'll be there for Valentine's Day, so keep it down, fuckers," he laughs, ducking away from Mama as she tries to smack the back of his head.

As we finally sit down to eat dinner twenty minutes later, the dining room is noisy and boisterous. Looking around, I wonder if I can ever have this… a big family... a bunch of loud kids, tossing food back and forth at each other even though Mama looks sternly at them. Their affection for each other is palpable and I see Mama wipe at her eyes as she gets up to get the pitcher of sweet tea from the sideboard. Big Daddy has pushed himself away from the table and is picking his teeth with a plastic toothpick, smiling at the boys and laughing along with them.

I get up to help Mama with the dishes even though she tells me not to while Jas gets beers for all the boys and a whiskey sour for Big Daddy. In the kitchen, Mama and I talk quietly some, but mostly we listen to the boys talk in the other room.

"It's like they forget I have ears on the side of my head," Mama drawls quietly as the boys reminisce about sneaking around during their younger days. "But I like nothing better than to have all my young 'uns back home for a few days. I love 'em all. That includes you, darlin'." She stands in front of me and tips my chin up toward hers, forcing me to look at her.

"Thanks, Mama. I love you all, too," I whisper, my breath hitching as tears fill my eyes and escape before I can stop them.

"Now, now, honey. Is this about that lily-livered jackass again? You still missin' him?" she asks. I nod and she pulls me into her arms. "I tell you true, that boy could make a preacher wanna cuss with the way he's acting."

"It's not just him. It's me, too," I say, defending Edward. I spit out everything that happened that last night and morning – well, not in detail – and Mama clucks her tongue at me when I tell her how I left after he said he loved me.

"Why, darlin'? Why did you run from him?" she prods.

"Because I don't think it's true," I answer, pulling away from her as she laughs.

"Bella, there's no sense lyin' like a rug to me. I can see right through you. You were scared, weren't you? That's why you left. You're afraid to get hurt again," she says.

"Yes," I say, letting out a sob. She lets me cry on her shoulder for several minutes.

"Sounds to me like there's still meat on that bone. You got some figurin' out to do," she says, rubbing my back. "Tell me, is he handsome?"

"Very," I answer.

"Makes a good living?"

"Yes," I say, laughing lightly.

"And other than the last part when he acted like the hind end of a horse, was he good to you?" she queries, pulling back to look in my eyes.

I nod, swallowing the lump still in my throat. "Always," I answer, closing my eyes as Mama uses her dish towel to blot away my tears.

"Then I think you know what you have to do, sweetie. You've got to talk to him. Let your tongue speak what your heart thinks," she says gently, smiling and nodding at me. I nod back. She's right. I need to talk to Edward when I get back to Seattle.

"Mama, y'all need any help in here?" Joey asks from the kitchen doorway.

"That boy's like a blister. He never shows up 'til the work's all done," she says quietly, winking at me. "No, Joseph. All finished up, as if you didn't know," she says, looking at him over her shoulder.

"Then let go of my future wife. She's draggin' me to Shady's," Joey laughs.

The rest of the men all file into the room.

"Big Daddy, you gonna drop us off and pick us up like last year?" Jer asks teasingly.

"No, he is not. Your daddy knows if he gets within 100 yards of Shady's he's liable to lose both kneecaps," Mama says firmly. "He'll only keep them if my aim's off... and my aim's never off."

The boys and I laugh hard at Mama's remark, remembering last year when we talked Big Daddy into having a drink with us at Shady's when he came to pick us up at midnight. He ended up drinking with us until closing time and Mama had to get out of bed and come pick us all up. She still wasn't speaking to Big Daddy when we all left Texas several days later.

"You gonna let her boss you around that way?" Jas asks his daddy while winking over at his mama.

"Son, there's two theories to arguin' with a woman. Neither one works. Get your own damn ride home," Big Daddy says gruffly, but he eventually laughs with the rest of us.

I tell them I'll drive since I don't want to drink more than a couple of beers anyway and the boys all file upstairs to get ready. Once they're gone, Mama turns back to me.

"You go on up and get your pretty face put back on," she says. "Nothin' dries as quick as a tear. And just remember, if Edward doesn't come to his senses soon, then he's about as sharp as a sack full of wet mice." She kisses my forehead, then turns me around by the shoulders and pats my behind like a child to send me on my way.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, all four boys bang their fists against the door to my room, calling my name. I've fixed my hair and makeup, put on tight jeans and a tighter t-shirt. I'm standing in front of the full-length mirror, admiring the red cowboy boots and the black belt with the gigantic, jewel-studded buckle that Bree loaned me. I'll fit right in at Shady's.

When I open the door at the same time I push Mama's black cowboy hat onto my head, Joey wolf whistles loudly. Jasper doubles over in laughter when he sees me. I've never dressed like this down here before.

"How do I look, boys?" I ask, smiling at them.

"You look good enough to eat, sugar," Joey drawls, leaning against the doorframe. "Need a cowboy to ride?"

"No, thanks," I laugh, punching him lightly in the arm. "Heard you got more women 'round here than you can shake a stick at anyway."

"I'd give 'em all up for you, Miss Bella," he drawls, touching the brim of his hat like a gentleman and smiling at me charmingly. Jesus, no wonder the women around here vie for his attention. I shake my head at him, but wrap an arm around his waist when he slings one across my shoulder. "Let's get this show on the road!"

* * *

At the bar, the boys all do shots of Jack while I shoot something sour. They play pool while I watch and we all play darts and shuffleboard. After an hour, I switch from beer to water, so I can drive us home, but I have as much fun watching them harass each other as I did last year participating in it.

Joey is pretty well gone by the time he begins pointing out the girls he's been to bed with.

"Yep. Yep. Nope, but I would. Yep. Yep. Yep. Not if you fuckin' paid me," he says, using his thumb and index finger like a gun shooting ducks in the gallery. He turns his index finger toward me. "If she'd only say the word."

Smiling at him, I shake my head. "Sorry, Joey. I'm not really into casual sex," I say, reaching over to pinch his cheek.

"Sugar, there wouldn't be anything casual about you and me," he says, leaning in toward me.

"All right, Romeo. Back away from your baby brother's best friend before he kicks your ass," Scott says, grabbing my stool and pulling it away from Joey's.

"He's harmless, Scott. He's just trying-," I argue.

"To get in your pants," Jas finishes.

I laugh loudly and stand up, wanting to diffuse the sudden tension between the brothers. "Jas, look at these pants. They're tighter than the bark on a tree. Nobody's getting in them tonight. Now which one of you cowboys is gonna teach me to play pool?"

They all volunteer and spend the next hour trying to improve my game. They've tried before. They'll probably try again next year. Apparently, you can't teach that kind of hand-eye coordination, even to someone who's relatively sober.

After a few more rounds of drinks, they're not capable of playing either. At midnight, I try to start convincing them that it's time to go. They're all happy, agreeable drunks, but it still takes me awhile to talk them into leaving. At one, I finally wrangle them into the Escalade, but it takes us forever to get back to the ranch. They want to stop to buy cigars. Then they have to stop and pee on the side of the road.

By the time we get back to the ranch, my sides hurt from laughing so much. The boys head out back to smoke their cigars, but I walk upstairs to bed.

"Bella?" I hear Joey whisper from the bottom of the stairs as I'm about halfway up.

"Yeah, Joey?" I answer quietly, turning to look at him.

"You know I didn't mean nothin' by that… what I said, right? I mean, you're a beautiful woman and I love beautiful women, but I would never disrespect you that way. You're not just Jasper's friend… you're my friend, too," he says, looking at me honestly.

I walk down the stairs to hug him. "Thanks, Joey," I murmur, then pull away to start back up. Changing my tone as I start climbing, I stage-whisper, "Damn, I was just about to give in." When I hear him chuckle behind me, I laugh softly, too.

* * *

Wednesday and Thursday are filled with family and food. When Jasper's sisters-in-law catch me playing outside with their children, they both look at me quizzically. I shrug and continue playing with the kids, trying to ignore the twinge in my chest as I wonder what the Cullen family is doing today… wondering if Riley misses me the way I miss her… them.

Friday morning, I get up early and head out for a run, kicking up dust on the trail in my wake. It feels good to run and think for the first time in a few days. My legs and lungs feel strong – I feel powerful for the first time in weeks. When I get back to the ranch, Joey is coming out the back door.

"Where ya been?" he asks, still looking sleepy. He's wearing sweatpants and a Longhorns t-shirt.

"Bermuda," I deadpan, gratefully accepting the bottled water he holds out to me and drinking greedily. He laughs and I smile at him once I've finished drinking.

"Want to come hit the heavy bag with me in the barn?" he asks, taking the water from me when I hand it back. I shrug and nod, then follow along as he starts walking. He holds the barn door open for me and points me in the direction of the gym he and Jason talked Big Daddy into installing a few years ago.

They have a fully stocked gym: treadmill, elliptical, free weights, and boxing equipment. I know from last year that Bree loves to box, but Joey says she hasn't been doing much exercising since she found out that she was pregnant.

Joey takes my iPod and plugs it into the dock, scrolling through my music until he finds something he likes. Then he gets behind the bag to hold it for me and tells me to take a swing. I hit the bag a few times last year, but never hit it very hard. Today, I feel like doing some damage.

"Don't I need gloves?" I ask.

"Depends. How hard are ya gonna hit?" he drawls, peeking around the side of the bag.

I shift my weight onto my left leg and cross my arms across my chest as I look back at him, cocking one eyebrow questioningly.

"Fuck," he says when he sees my expression. "You're pretty pissed off, huh? All right. Let's get you gloved up, baby." He laughs as I roll my eyes, but he helps me put on Bree's pink gloves. "Are you still pissed at that guy?"

I huff out an irritated sigh, making Joey laugh louder. I discovered Wednesday that Jasper told his entire family to tread lightly around me because I'd just been through a breakup. Jasper and I had a few words then. Most of mine were not nice. He then announced to his family that everyone should treat me _normally_. He said it snottily, but we kissed and made up anyway.

"Yep," I answer finally as I throw my first punch. Immediately, I cock my arm back again, punching harder. "And myself." I punch the bag again. And Jack. I'm mad at all three of us.

"Let it out, Baby Swan," Joey orders, laughing from behind the bag. I punch as hard as I can, chuckling myself when I hear his low grunt as the bag moves into him more forcefully. He recovers quickly though. "Harder. Tell me who you're hitting."

I punch repeatedly, picturing the people I'm hitting falling to the mat. "Jack for butting in. Edward for being a pussy," I growl, smiling involuntarily when Joey laughs. "Myself for being too fucking scared to believe him… too big of a bitch to listen to him… too worried about myself to pay attention to what was bothering him." I punch harder with each successive statement.

"Stop," Joey says after I punch a few more times, stepping out from behind the bag and moving to stand beside me. "Let's add some kicks." He shows me how to do a couple of different kicks... similar to the ones I learned in the self-defense classes my dad insisted I attend. Once I've had a couple of practice kicks, he gets back behind the bag and calls out what he wants me to do.

Ten minutes later, I'm drenched with sweat as Joey pulls me into a hug. "You're a tough little filly, Bella. You'll be all right."

Fuck, I hope he's right.

* * *

The week after Thanksgiving, I'm so busy at work that I don't have time to dwell on Edward… on when I'm going to see him and what I'm going to say.

On Thursday, I have a meeting with Jack. I have pulled in my favor with Emmett and gotten him to agree that I can rotate off this account as soon as phase one is over... right after the holidays. My hope is that when Jack knows I'm off the account, he'll stop protesting any sort of relationship between Edward and me. My other hope is that Edward will still want to have any sort of relationship with me. But if he doesn't, at least I won't have to come here every couple of weeks and be afraid of running into him.

When Jack's secretary shows me into his office, he stands to greet me. After we shake hands and he kisses my cheek, I sit down while we wait for Alec. I asked Emmett to let me tell Jack myself about the change on the account, partly out of respect for Jack and partly so I can see his reaction; I should do it now. But Jack beats me to the punch.

"Bella, I have something for you," he says, opening his desk drawer. He takes a red envelope from the drawer and hands it across the desk to me. "It's an invitation to our holiday party. It's really for employees, but I always invite a few other people – those who are my favorites." He smiles and winks at me before I look down at the envelope.

It's addressed to "Miss Bella Swan and Guest".

"Thank you, Jack," I mumble, unsure why my heart has just shifted into overdrive.

"It's at the Fairmont downtown. I hope you can come… please feel free to bring someone. Emmett… or a date," he prompts.

I force myself to smile as I look up at Jack and answer. "I'll have to check my calendar. I'm sure you know how busy this time of year is, but I'll try to make it."

"Good," he says, smiling at me. Emily buzzes in to tell Jack that he has a call; he apologizes to me before he picks up the receiver, insisting I stay put in my chair instead of leaving to give him privacy.

Determined not to eavesdrop on his conversation, I decide to look at the invitation. Carefully, I lift the back flap and slide the colorful card out to read it. The party is in twelve days, on December 13. I know without looking that I'm not busy that day. I'm not really busy at all this month. I only have one other holiday party to attend – our office party on the nineteenth. Then I'm going to Forks to spend Christmas with my dad – six days in Forks. After that, I'll fly to Phoenix to spend three days with my mom. Merry little Christmas, my ass.

I think it will be better that I'm gone though since Em and Jas are both going to be out of town from the twenty-first until January third. Jasper's going back to Texas and Emmett is spending the holiday at his grandparents' house in Tahoe. Both of them invited me to come along, but I haven't spent any time with my parents this year, and since they both asked I feel compelled to be the good daughter for a few days.

At the same time Jack hangs up his phone, we're interrupted by a quick knock at the door. My body goes on high alert, fearing – or maybe hoping – that it might be the arrogant semi-asshole coming in, but it's Alec.

"Hi, Bella, Jack. Sorry you're stuck with me again," he says with a smile. "Edward didn't come back from New York yesterday as planned."

As soon as Alec is seated, we begin our meeting. When it's over, I chicken out, not telling Jack that I'm leaving the account. I have one more meeting scheduled with him before Christmas, so I'll have to tell him then.

Alec and I leave Jack's office together and get on the elevator. Due to an enormous – hopefully momentary – lapse of judgment, I interject a question into our barrage of holiday small talk.

"It seems like Edward's been spending a lot of time in New York. What's he working on?" I ask conversationally. I regret it instantly.

But Alec's eyes light up and he begins to chuckle. "He hasn't said anything to me, but according to the company gossip, it's not a what... it's a who. Edward and Rosalie Hale have supposedly been seeing each other for a few weeks."

Although my stomach is clenching reflexively, I almost laugh out loud. If it was anyone else, I'd believe it, but Edward can't stand Rosalie. He's told me several times what a self-centered person she is. I can't imagine his opinion of her would change that quickly.

Still, the thought of him with someone else makes me wish I had a bottle of Pepto with me.

The elevator doors open and Alec gets off on his floor with a genial goodbye. I try not to let what he said bother me, rationalizing that it's probably not true anyway, but I think of little else as I drive back to my office. I'm distracted most of the afternoon, working at a much slower pace than usual. At five, Jasper knocks on my office door as he walks in.

"Hey. Are we still hitting the gym?" he asks, smiling at me as he drops into one of the chairs in front of my desk.

"Yeah," I answer absently, staring at the invitation lying on my desk as I bite my thumbnail.

What should I do? What should I do?

I have to quit being such a wuss. I want to see Edward. I need to know one way or another if there will be a chance for us.

"Hello?" Jas chuckles from his chair. "Baby Swan, you still in there?"

Snapping out of my inner monologue, I laugh with him and look up into his blue eyes. "Yeah, sorry. Jas, I need a favor. Come with me to a party?"

* * *

"Nervous?" he asks as we walk into the hotel ballroom twelve days later.

"As hell," I reply, licking my lips and using my right hand to twist and pull at the bracelet hanging around my left wrist. "I need a drink." He turns his head and quirks an eyebrow at me. "I mean I _want_ to have a drink... red wine."

He smiles and nods. He knows that I'm not drinking like I was. I won't do that again.

We mingle a little as we walk toward the bar. Alec comes to say hello and introduces me to his date. Several other people whose faces I recognize, but whose names I don't know, say hello or wave as we pass. When Emily comes to say hello, Jasper tells me to stay put and he'll go get our drinks. Emily and I talk for a few minutes before she excuses herself to go find her husband. While I wait for Jasper, I scan the crowd quickly, looking for Edward. I want to see him. I want to talk to him.

When I finally spot him, my heart drops into my stomach.

It's true.

He's with her. Rosalie.

* * *

**A/N2: Ned's up next... **


	19. Read Between the Lies

**A/N: So, here we are at the Prologue... from Ned's point of view. ****I don't have a lot to say...****so I'll just get down to business.**

**Windgirl810 continues to amaze me with her ability to read the drivel I write and fix it to say what I mean. :) We are psychically connected. She's the smart one. Mwah!**

**Michelle0526 preread and is my fic sis and keeps me semi-sane when I have anxiety. :) Mwah!**

**Littlecat358 preread, too, and is not only a fantastic writer, but also a fantastic person. Have loved getting to know her. :) Mwah! **

**I made a bunch of new friends on Twitter... they are lovely and pervy and one of them is nicknamed Stella already... They've also rec'ed me. Mwah!**

**PLF girls: Words cannot express my affection for all of you. :) You make me smile. Every day. Even my children don't do that. **

**My daughter is learning to drive the ride-on mower today, over my objections. Yes, Christine, the one easily distracted by shiny objects is now in control of a moving object with sharp blades. Brilliant. **

**Thanks for reading... please review!**

**As last time, reviewers will get a preview of next chapter... back to BPOV. This is it for Ned. **

* * *

**Chapter 19: Read Between the Lies**

* * *

**EPOV**

_Where is he?_

I look around the ballroom apprehensively, fighting the urge to pace. I take another drink of my Jack and Coke, wishing I'd asked the bartender to leave out the Coke. I threw back two shots of whiskey in the room before Rosalie and I came down here, but it hasn't relaxed me at all.

The sense of dread I feel is irrational… there's no reason for me to feel this way. Everything is working out exactly the way I want it to. No, not the way I _want_ it to. The way I _need_ it to.

Suddenly, Rosalie appears at my side, sliding her arm through mine, then raising her hand to my bicep and squeezing gently. Turning my head, I look down at her and try to smile. She looks beautiful. I told her that earlier, realizing that even though she appears self-confident – even conceited – to the outside world, she's actually very insecure in some ways. She hasn't been treated well by most of the men in her life… certainly not by former lovers.

"Hey, you. Are you okay?" she asks, smiling up at me. I nod jerkily, and then shift my eyes away from her to scan the faces in the crowd again.

"Is he here?" I ask tensely, trying to keep my face neutral. Rosalie told me yesterday that I scowl every time I talk about him.

"Yes. I just saw him at the coat check. He should be in shortly… said he was stopping at the bar first," she replies in a hushed tone, leaning her head close to my shoulder. I nod, but don't otherwise answer her.

I continue eyeballing the crowd, looking at the happy, relaxed faces of the people I work with. Forcibly, I smile and lift my chin slightly in greeting at my secretary, Jane, when she waves to me. She's been exceedingly kind and patient with me recently. Even though she's never said anything, I sometimes wonder if she knows a lot more than she's let on about what happened during the last seven months.

Jesus, I can't believe it's only been seven months. Last May, I didn't know what an absolute fucking disaster my life would be by Christmas. I close my eyes briefly and swallow the raw emotions threatening to erupt. I need to keep my cool tonight. Rosalie is counting on me… lots of people are counting on me. People who don't even _know_ they're counting on me are counting on me.

I reach my hand up to Rosalie's and squeeze it gently. I don't know what I would have done without her the last couple of months. She's saved me in a way I never thought I'd need to be saved. Feeling bolstered once again, I open my eyes and look around, still searching for him.

I watch the doorway on the right side of the ballroom for a minute, but don't see him come in. Beginning to feel uneasy again, I look toward the back of the ballroom where the bar is; I don't see him there either. Afraid he got past me when I wasn't watching, I turn my head slightly to the left, letting my eyes rove across the larger crowd on that side of the room, then turn my head farther when I think I see... her.

The crowd is moving… shifting… and I crane my neck to try and see over the people milling around. Frowning, I step a few inches to my left, away from Rosalie, to get a clearer look, but other partygoers have stopped right in front of the woman, blocking my view.

It can't be her. Why would she be here? Her name wasn't on the guest list I saw a few weeks ago. It must be someone else… someone else with shiny, dark hair and a pretty smile. It's probably some woman whose name I don't know from accounting… or human resources. Still, as I continue to watch the area where I thought I saw her, my chest feels tight… my breaths come faster. Deliberately, I raise the glass in my right hand to my lips and take several large sips as I try to convince myself that, like a mirage, the woman will disappear when the crowd disperses.

Shaking my head minutely at myself, I wonder why my mind is choosing _this_ night…_this_ time… to make me believe I see her. Exhaling quietly, I press the fingers of my left hand to my forehead as I answer my own question: I miss her. Jesus, I miss her so much.

Forty-two days.

It's been forty-two days since I last saw her... since I heard her voice... since I felt her arms around me, her lips on mine, her body under mine.

It's been forty-two days since she ran away from me… no, since I _told_ her to get the fuck away from me. I've regretted those words every day since.

But get away from me, she did. I haven't heard from her at all – not that she has any real way to get in touch with me even if she wanted to. A few days after the last time I was at her apartment, I threw away the phone I bought for my personal use... the phone I bought so I could call _her_, text _her_. She has my office number and email address, but I doubt she would try either of those ways to contact me. Although she has my home phone number, I've spent most of the last two months in New York or in hotels here in Seattle. The last time I checked my home voicemail, the only message was from Alice anyway.

Forty-two fucking days.

Feeling more and more agitated, I lower my hand and turn my head to inspect the crowd once more. I still can't find him. On their own, my eyes slide back to the spot where I thought I saw her. Suddenly, the people blocking my view move apart and I see Emily, Jack's secretary, laughing. My gut twists with nervous anticipation as I shift around to try and see who she's talking to. When she moves to the side, I can finally see the face of the brown-haired woman.

Bella.

Oh, fuck. It _is_ her. My mouth goes dry and my heart pounds hard and fast. With a suddenly shaky hand, I raise my glass to my mouth and swallow what's left in the glass, not taking my eyes from her.

Jesus, she's gorgeous. Her smile is wide as she talks animatedly to Emily, tossing her head back slightly as she laughs. I miss that – the sound of her laugh, the way her eyes light up, the entire range of her smiles… from wry amusement to all-out hysteria. I knew them all well. I knew _her_ well. I could often tell which smile would be on her face before I saw it, based solely on the tone of her laugh.

Unable to pull my eyes away, I continue staring even though I know my feelings for her will be obvious if anyone's paying attention to me. Alice told me last summer that I looked at Bella with an intensity, a desire, that she'd never seen in my eyes before. I never doubted the truth of Alice's statement, but I scoffed at her observation, pretending Bella and I were nothing more than fuck buddies. In reality, I wanted more than that with Bella from the day after we agreed to _be_ fuck buddies.

But Bella wasn't ready for more. She told me flat-out that she wasn't ready to risk being hurt again. All during the early summer, she reinforced that statement nonverbally – never quite letting me all the way in... never letting me meet the most important person in her life. While I fell hard and fast, she clung to the belief that we were just friends… but I hoped – no, I _knew_ – she was falling, too, even if she wouldn't admit it.

So I resigned myself to being patient. I was prepared to wait until it wasn't so scary for her… determined not to pressure her by declaring my own feelings until she was capable of listening without running away. All summer, I tried to prove my friendship, my affection, my admiration in any way I could.

Fuck. I jerk myself out of that reminiscence before I get to the part when it all fucking fell apart. I briefly look down at the dark liquid in my glass, circling my wrist slowly to swirl the mixture. When I look back up, Emily and Bella are kissing each other's cheeks the way women do – where they don't actually touch at all so they won't mess each other up or something. It makes me smile for an instant. Then, finally, Emily walks away and I have a clear look at Bella.

Goddamn. She's fucking stunning. The breath I didn't realize I was holding rushes out in a gust. I feel my mouth fall open slightly... feel the quick blast of desire flow through my blood. I know I won't have more than a few more seconds of uninterrupted staring, so I quickly try to memorize the way she looks.

The dress hugs her body, accentuating her slender frame, the slight flare of her hips. The skirt ends just above her knees, showing off her great legs. My gaze continues to roam her body, landing briefly on her waist, her shoulders, her neck.

I've only really seen her dressed up like this one other time... at the cocktail party in San Diego. That night, she took my breath away with her beauty. And then after her surprise encounter with James, I was amazed by her strength, her grace. Even with James in attendance, that night was one of the best of my life. Hell, the whole weekend was better than I could have imagined. When I asked her to go with me, I hoped that she would see how good it could be if we were in a real relationship... and I think she did. We grew even closer during the week that followed.

As I watch, Bella turns toward the back of the room where the bar is, tilting her head from side to side... who's she looking for?

Abruptly, I'm pulled from my daze when Rosalie says something about Jack. Shit. Jack. The plan. The announcement. Bella.

Simultaneously, I'm hit by waves of rage and fear. Fuck. We've planned this night for weeks... for forty-one days. Since the day after I believed I didn't have a chance at what I wanted and impulsively agreed to the plan Rosalie had been advocating for weeks.

And now I'm furious that Bella has the nerve to show up here. And I'm terrified that she'll be listening when Jack announces that –

"Edward, are you listening to me at all?" Rosalie huffs, exasperated with me.

"Yeah, of course. Jack… the band," I reply without turning to face Rose.

With difficulty, I finally tear my eyes away from Bella to scan the crowd, looking for him again… but thinking of the first time I saw her.

That Friday afternoon, I was ill-tempered – angry that Jack asked me to stay for an advertising meeting while he went to play golf. When Bella walked into my office, I immediately discounted her capabilities for two reasons: first, she looked absolutely panicked; and second, she was exceptionally good-looking. Jesus, if she knew I thought that, she'd call me an asshole. It was a momentary lapse into sexist thoughts triggered by being generally pissed off that day.

I acted like a jerk, hoping to scare her off so I could get the hell out of there. But Bella stood up to me... challenged me, flipped me off. By the time I was finished reading her proposal, I was completely taken with her intelligence, her humor... her nerve.

I wanted to talk to her, but I didn't think she'd be agreeable after the way I behaved earlier. I'd already decided to endorse her ad proposal... a fact she didn't know yet. So I made up a list of bullshit questions that I didn't really need to know the answers to and suggested we have a drink to talk about them.

After that night, falling in love with her was inevitable... effortless...

At last, I spot him – James – at the back of the ballroom. He's waiting at the bar, looking around, smiling, spreading his holiday cheer. I can't stop my lips from settling into a sneer. Go ahead, motherfucker. I don't think you'll be as joyful by the end of the party.

I've never hated anyone the way I hate James. I hate him for what he did to Alice. I hate him for what he did to me. But I hate him the most for what he did to Riley... even though Riley and Alice have no idea what's been going on for the last few months.

"Miss? Sir? Hors d'oeuvres?" a waiter asks, stopping in front of Rosalie and me, holding a silver tray out toward us.

"This looks delicious," Rosalie says graciously. "What is it?" She takes a napkin from him and chooses a topped cracker.

"Seared Ahi with a mango wasabi cream on a sesame rice cracker," he declares, pivoting slightly to offer the tray toward me.

"No. Thank you," I say, somewhat abruptly, my thoughts of James still irritating me. Rosalie shakes her head and holds up her hand when he asks if she'd like another and he moves away.

"God, that was good," she says after she swallows her bite. "Can I put my napkin in your pocket?"

I nod, and feel her hand move quickly in and then out of my jacket pocket.

I return my attention to James once more.

I knew last spring that he was growing disgruntled with his position in New York and assumed he'd make a power play eventually. I never imagined the malicious depths he would sink to in order to get his way though. I'm sure his plan was in place long before the weekend Bella and I saw him in San Diego, but when she repeated his cryptic comments to me, I was afraid it would grow to somehow involve her, too.

And it did... but he didn't play that card at first.

He started soon after I left for Europe with Jack. The first two days, there were small oddities: faint clicks on the line when I talked on my phone; incoming emails and texts that would pop up long enough for me to read them, but then suddenly go missing from my phone or laptop.

Then, finally, he made himself known… made his demand. Late afternoon on that Monday when I was in Paris with Jack, I got it… the email revealing that he knew about Riley... that he'd _known_ about Riley from the beginning. Although I was relieved that he'd never made any move toward Alice before Riley was born, I was also shocked that he'd known all this time, and disgusted by his coldness, his irresponsibility. How could he leave my sister to deal with it all alone? She was practically a child herself. He just left town, knowing that she was carrying his baby.

Riley. Thank God he hadn't come after Riley earlier in her life. But what kind of bastard ignores his own child? Just thinking about that day in August, blind fury rushes through my veins. Even though I didn't want him anywhere near Riley, I was enraged that he could be so detached from his own child… and use her as a weapon against those who love her.

His second email reminded me that he still had compromising pictures of Alice. While the pictures wouldn't cause the damage now that they would have six years ago, it would still be embarrassing for Alice.

The third email offered the only legitimate bargaining chip he really had in my estimation: complete surrender of any claim to Riley. He indicated that he would sign papers severing his parental rights if I agreed to help him get what he wanted, preferring to gain money and power over meeting and knowing his daughter.

By the time he called my cell phone a few minutes later, I was so on edge that it only took a couple of vague comments about Alice and Riley to make me blindly agree to his wishes, eager to pacify him. While he was talking, the emails he sent systematically vanished from my laptop one by one. As I heard the condescension in his tone, I realized he was behind my missing communications, the strange phone noises. Of course – James knew how to hack into anything. Since the laptop and phone belonged to Hale Software, it wasn't even really hacking… he had full access to all my devices.

It was his way of screwing with me... of letting me know that he knew who I was talking to – verbally or through text. I stopped calling anyone important to me immediately, including Bella. I even stayed away from her when I got home because I was so afraid that he'd know how much she meant to me and use her against me… or use me against her.

By the time I saw her that Monday in Jack's office, I had come up with a way we could still see each other and resolved to tell her what was happening with James. But then, on the way to her apartment that evening, I remembered her words about Riley the night before I left for Europe: "I love her."

She loved Riley almost as much as I did. If she knew what James was up to, she'd try to put herself in between him and Riley the same way I was. I couldn't let her do that... so I lied to her. Jesus, I hated lying to her... hurting her. But she agreed to my stupid plan, blaming Jack for the change in our relationship instead of me... not knowing that I was trying to protect her... trying to protect all the women I loved.

She'd be pissed when I eventually told her the truth and I could only hope she'd forgive me... hope she'd be ready for a real relationship by the time I got the whole mess straightened out.

"Another drink, sir?" a blonde woman carrying a tray asks, jarring me back to the present.

"No, thank you," I answer. I want another one – could really use another one to get through the rest of this night. But I'd better stay clear-headed. There isn't enough whiskey in the hotel to calm my nerves anyway now that I know Bella is here.

"May I take your glass then?" she offers, smiling up at me. She's young and pretty. I smile politely in return and hand her my empty glass.

I look to my right, checking on Rosalie. She's stepped a foot or so away from me and turned her back toward me slightly to chat with two women I recognize from Hale's legal department. Essentially standing alone now, I'm sure I look anti-social… I don't give a fuck. I _feel_ anti-social right now. Turning my head, I seek James once again, determined to remain cognizant of his whereabouts. I don't know what I'll do if he tries to approach Bella… I have every reason to believe that he'll try to exploit the situation if he realizes she's here.

Last September, everything was almost settled... I had given in to James in every conceivable way to keep him away from my family and Bella. Jack readily agreed, of course, when I recommended that James be promoted to the company's top IT position. Jack thought of James as a favorite son more than a nephew, refusing to see any of his shortcomings. I'd been down that road before with Jack and I knew that, without proof of James' misdeeds, it was a dead-end; Jack always took James' side. Since I didn't have any proof, I resolved to yield to James' demands for now and fix everything at Hale later, trusting that I could get the evidence I needed eventually. My first priority was to ensure that all my girls were safeguarded from him.

Then things took another turn.

While I was at a meeting in San Francisco, Jack called Rosalie and James in and informed them of his plan to retire next summer. Although I didn't find out until a week later, Jack told Rosalie and James that he intended to appoint Rosalie as president of Hale Software… and me as CEO. According to Rosalie, Jack proudly informed James that he would then take my current position, leaving the three of us in charge of the day-to-day operations. Jack would retain his title as Chairman of the Board, but planned to completely step-away from running the company. Rose told me that James reacted well in the moment, graciously thanking Jack, but that he glared at her with undisguised hatred.

Unaware of the unfolding Hale family drama, I flew back from San Francisco that Saturday morning eager to see Bella. We hadn't spent any nights apart since the time right after I returned from Europe, and I missed her.

As soon as the plane landed in Seattle, I texted her, asking if I could come over. While I waited for her to answer, I powered up my work phone, checking to see if I had any new messages. After quickly answering a couple of emails, I put that phone in my pocket and checked to see if Bella had replied. She had – and she wanted to meet at a coffeehouse instead. I was puzzled, but since she'd never asked me to do anything like that before, I knew it must be important to her. And anything that meant so much to her, I'd do if I possibly could… without even having to think about it.

I typed my assent, smiling, happy that I'd be seeing her in less than an hour and wondering amusedly what it was she wanted to tell me. Still smiling as the plane taxied to the gate, I automatically reached for my work phone in my pocket when it pinged, then cringed when I saw the new email from James.

Cautiously, I opened it, hoping to read that he was satisfied with the progress of his demand and would be signing the document giving up all rights to Riley as soon as his new position was officially announced. Instead, what I saw chilled me to the bone: A picture of Riley and Alice in front of Riley's school. Jesus. I felt the bile rising in my throat as I dialed Alice to make sure they were okay. Relief flooded through me when she assured me they were fine, irritation evident in her tone. I know she thinks I worry too much, but if she knew what I know – if she knew that James _knows_ – she would worry, too.

Breathing easier after I talked to Alice, I left the airport thinking everything could still be okay. Then, just as I parked at the Three Beans, I got two more emails. First a screen shot of a document... "Petition for Joint Custody". My heart sank, knowing it wasn't going to be over yet. But it was the second email that almost stopped my sinking heart. A picture of Bella... standing outside her building with Angela, smiling, clearly just returning from a run. James hadn't been fooled by our secrecy. He knew how important she was to me.

As I sat in the car staring at the picture, it suddenly disappeared, along with the other two emails James sent.

I didn't know what the hell to do, but I tried to pull it together for Bella. Feeling pretty confident that I was hiding my inner turmoil, I walked into the coffeehouse and looked around. I didn't see her inside, but soon spotted her sitting outside on the patio. Jesus. She looked so beautiful. Standing at the patio door, I watched as she picked up her drink and fiddled with the straw unconsciously like she often did. Then she set it down and lifted a scarf from the chair beside her, wrapping it around her neck.

Alarm spread through me at the thought of her being used by James… at the knowledge that I really didn't know how far he would go to get what he wanted. I didn't think he would be stupid enough to physically harm anyone, but mental damage can sometimes be even more difficult to overcome. And Bella had already had to overcome the mental damage Jake did.

I closed my eyes for a split-second and hoped she wasn't delivering bad news. I assumed that whatever she had to tell me had to do with Emmett and Jasper… or her dad… or _my_ dad. In retrospect, I don't know why I didn't see what was coming… I should have read the nervous signals she was giving off better than I did that day. It should have been obvious to me.

I'd like to think that if I hadn't been so distracted by what was going on with James, I would have realized it and reacted better. I would have blurted out my own feelings... and everything might have been different. I might have told her what had been going on… I might have let her help me find a solution.

But I _was_ distracted… and I was stunned when she told me how she felt… and unsure whether I should return the sentiment or push her away to protect her from James.

In the end, it didn't matter. While I was still struggling for words… still deciding how much to reveal… she made the decision for me. She assumed I didn't feel anything. She didn't let me talk... didn't ask how I felt... she just walked away. And I let her, finally deciding that her safety was more important. I didn't think I could keep all these balls in the air – didn't think I could protect Alice _and_ Riley _and_ Bella. So I held my tongue and watched her go.

Then I sat – dazed – on the patio of Three Beans until it was almost dark, hoping she'd come back. Knowing that if she came back, I'd tell her the truth about everything – and I'd tell her that I love her, too.

She never showed.

I decided it was a sign – that being apart was the best way for Bella to remain untouched by this whole mess. I forced myself to stay away from her, rationalizing that this was necessary at the time ... and that I could go to her, tell her the truth, as soon as everything was settled. My willpower only lasted six days.

Then I went to her place, but she wasn't there. So I planted my ass outside her apartment door and waited until she got home. Drunk. I acted like an ass… she would say ass_hole. _She let me in – sat still while I berated her for not asking about my feelings that day at Three Beans. Finally, she fought back and we argued. I almost laughed when she threw the pillow at me so dramatically – Bella and I hadn't had a real, yell-at-each-other fight before. But then I tried to tell her the truth. Once again, she wouldn't let me talk.

An hour later, I was at her door again, this time carrying soda and something to cure the hangover she was bound to have in the morning. When she didn't answer, I tried the doorknob and was scared shitless when it was unlocked. That wasn't like her, not after everything she went through with Jake. I went inside and locked the door behind myself, calling for her, but she didn't answer.

Frantic, I searched the apartment for her, and was relieved – and disappointed – when I found her passed out on the bathroom floor. At first, I tried to pick her up and carry her to bed, but she mumbled that she was going to be sick again, so I settled her back on the floor and covered her up with her robe. I sat beside her for several hours, playing with her hair, holding her hand, wiping her face with a cool washcloth, hoping she would wake up and talk to me… listen to me. But she never did.

It was almost dawn when my personal phone vibrated. Frowning, I pulled it from my front pocket, wondering who would text me on this phone. Nobody except Bella had the number.

***I know where you are, Cullen.**

I didn't know if he really did or not. I couldn't even prove that it was him. I knew that, like the emails he sent before, the text would likely disappear from my phone in a matter of minutes. I had no idea how he found this number – but I knew I had to go... knew I really had to stay away from her then... knew I had to make him think that I was with someone else. And I knew the perfect person.

Fuck. Pulling my hand through my hair and wishing I had ordered another drink after all, I force my thoughts away from Bella… away from that day. I can't continue to think about this right now. Rosalie and I have an objective tonight. And in order for this scheme to work, we have to look convincing. Reaching toward Rosalie, I trail my fingers down the back of her bare arm. She turns to look at me over her shoulder and moves her hand to rest in mine, excusing herself from the conversation she's in and stepping back to me.

She angles her body toward me and shifts her arm, resting her hand in the crook of my elbow.

"What's wrong?" she asks quietly, looking up at me with a wide smile, but concern clouds her clear blue eyes. "He's in here. I saw him a few minutes ago."

Nodding, I lean down to answer her. "I know. I saw him, too," I reply. Then, wishing I had a cure for my queasy stomach, I admit what's bothering me. "She's here, Rosalie. Bella's here."

She turns her megawatt smile at me again and I instinctively grasp her hand with mine. "Shit! Edward, I'm so sorry," she says quietly, her words contradicting the expression on her face. I squeeze her hand to let her know I appreciate her words. "You've got to hold it together though. This is it. If we don't push him now, he won't make his move."

"I know," I concede.

"I'm going to the ladies room. Mingle. But not with her," she admonishes, leaning in to kiss my cheek. "We'll get through this."

She backs away from me a couple of steps, making it look like she couldn't stand to let go of me. She nods and I smile at her, watching until she turns to walk out of the room. Then my eyes are drawn right back to Bella.

She's not alone.

Dumbfounded, I stare for a full minute, before I come to my senses and look around. I can feel the frown that has settled onto my face. I've gone from feeling queasy to feeling like I've been punched in the chest. I can't fucking breathe right. I search for James, spotting him on the other side of the room – a safe distance from Bella – talking to a couple of board members. That eases my stress marginally.

Surrendering my final bit of self-control, I indulge myself again, sliding my eyes toward her. Who the hell is the asshole with her? He hasn't taken his eyes – or his goddamn hands – off of her. I feel my heart pounding as I watch them laughing… watch him gently touching her wrist… touching… oh, fucking Christ. He's touching my goddamned bracelet. Well, her bracelet, but I fucking gave it to her.

I remember how she cried when she first saw it… how emotional we both were, and what that led to…

And now she's letting some other guy put his goddamned fucking fingers all over it.

Before I can stop myself, I'm stalking across the floor toward them.

The closer I get, the better she looks. The last time I was this close to her – the night she came to my house – she had lost weight. She was still beautiful then, but her arms were thinner, her hip bones more prominent than before. But now… she looks healthy again. She must be working out – I can see the slight muscle definition in her arm when she moves it.

Her eyes meet mine as she sees me approaching and she smiles widely. Jesus. Doesn't it bother her to see me the way it bothers me to see her? The asshole with her has his arm around her waist and pulls her toward him as I get closer, regarding me coolly. He definitely knows who I am – was – to Bella.

"Bella, happy holidays. It's nice to see you. I wasn't aware you'd be here this evening," I say, trying to make my voice sound cordial, but I can't force myself to smile. Happy holidays my ass.

"Hello, Edward. Happy holidays to you as well. Mr. Hale invited me when I met with him a few weeks ago. I'd like you to meet Jasper Whitlock," she says. Jesus, I've missed the sound of her voice. She turns her head to look at the asshole, beaming up at him. "Jas, this is Edward Cullen, the Executive Vice-President of Hale Software."

Wait... what? This is her Jas? He looks down at her adoringly and hands her his drink so he doesn't have to let go of her to shake my hand.

"Jasper Whitlock. You're _the_ Jasper….Whitlock…. as in McCarty and Whitlock?" I ask, as we shake hands. He's her _boss_? Feeling my anger spike again, I shift my gaze to Bella's face. She looks uncomfortable for an instant, but covers it well by looking at Jasper.

"Yes, sir," he replies, his voice full of Texas twang. "Emmett and I own the advertising firm and, thank the good Lord, were smart enough to hire Baby Swan here when we first started out. She's my good luck charm. And we always have had fun together." He smiles at me, then looks down at Bella. After he takes his drink from her, she wraps her arm around his waist and leans into him.

I nod curtly. "I saw you laughing as I was walking over. I'm glad you're enjoying yourselves," I lie, trying but failing to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I smile, but I can feel how tight it is… I know how insincere it must look.

"Yes, we were discussing how my mama likes to call Bella every week to teach her funny Texas colloquialisms, planning to turn her into a Whitlock. Right, darlin'?" Jasper laughs, looking down at her and dipping his head slightly in her direction. Turn her into a Whitlock? He wants to marry her? Ice-cold panic races through me instantly.

"I…but…I thought you were just friends," I say, stumbling over the words… stumbling even more over the thoughts behind the words. She said she didn't have those kind of feelings for him… said he didn't have those kind of feelings for her.

"Things changed, Edward," she says with a smile. She shrugs her smooth, bare shoulders – shoulders I've had my fingers on, my lips on, more times than I can count.

"Damn lucky for me," Jasper drawls quietly, still looking at her like some sort of lovesick fool.

She smiles that adorable smile up at him, crinkling her nose slightly, before turning back to me with a regular smile.

"Edward, how have you been? I saw you and Rosalie earlier. She looks well," she remarks. It's an empty statement – no emotion, no real interest. I know Bella was intimidated by Rosalie in New York and even though we never talked about it much after that, I don't think she cared much for Rosalie. Hell, until two months ago, _I_ didn't care much for Rosalie.

Still, I don't think Bella knows what's been going on with me the last few weeks. Rose and I have been discreet for the most part, only letting enough slip to start the wheels in motion. Jack heard the rumors, but I don't think he'd say anything to Bella.

Agitated, I begin speaking before I even think through what I'm going to say to her. "I'm fine. Rose is fine. Bella, I really need to speak with you privately," I say, losing myself for a moment in the brown depths of her eyes. That used to happen to me all the time. Her eyes always seemed to pull me in… I couldn't get away… didn't want to get away.

"Oh, Edward. Let's not discuss business tonight," she scolds with a chuckle.

Desperate, I grab her arm urgently, spilling some of her wine on her hand. Dammit. I grab the handkerchief from my pocket and dab the liquid from her hand immediately.

"Bella, I'm sorry. But it's imperative that I talk to you – _alone_ – for a moment," I plead, trying to convince her to come with me. She knows me – better than anyone else ever has. She'll know that if I'm asking so seriously, it must be important. And it is. I don't want her to be blindsided in a few minutes. I need to tell her… something… the truth? I don't know. I've tried to tell her so many times, but she wouldn't listen.

I beg her with my eyes… willing her to see my feelings. I see something flicker through her eyes, see her swallow. Just as I think she's about to acquiesce, I feel an arm slide through mine. I know without looking that it must be Rosalie.

"Edward, my father wants to speak with us," Rosalie says. Jesus. She's pissed at me. I can hear it in her tone. Right now though, I don't fucking care. I have to let Bella know what's going on.

"I'll be right there, Rose," I say curtly, without looking at her. She hates to be called Rose in front of other people, so I'm not surprised when I feel her nails curl inward on my arm, stabbing me even through my suit jacket... I know she's also reminding me that I have another obligation tonight. My first obligation tonight is to her.

"He wants us now, Edward," she replies tersely. Irritated, I close my eyes briefly and try to keep my anger under control. When I open my eyes again, I look at Bella. Her look of confusion from a moment ago is replaced by acceptance. She looks... sad. I want to grab her by the arm – or throw her over my shoulder – and get the hell out of here.

But I told her once before that I wouldn't let James hurt her. I won't let him hurt any of the people I love. Unfortunately, putting myself between James and them has meant that _I've_ hurt all the women I love. I've lost Bella. I rarely see Alice and Riley.

Resigned to what I feel I have to do, I nod seriously at Bella and Jasper, then let Rosalie pull me along behind her.

"Jesus Christ, Edward! What the hell are you doing?" she hisses once we're safely away.

"Give it a rest, Rosalie. You've already marked me with your fucking claws," I growl back.

She laughs at that and I can't help but smile a little. There hasn't been a lot to smile about lately, but Rosalie and I have settled into a tentative, and somewhat antagonistic, friendship.

"Try not to look like you're being led to the gallows, okay?" she chides. "Where's my ring?"

I reach into my jacket pocket and hand her the ring box containing the ring she bought for herself. She opens the box and removes the ring, then slides it on to her left hand and holds it out in front of me so I can see it. The band is gold with one big square diamond in the middle and a triangle-shaped diamond on each side.

"Isn't it pretty?" she asks, chuckling a little.

"Yes, it is. You have excellent taste. How much did that little trinket cost me?" I grouse.

"Mmm, about $400," she replies.

"What? Where'd you get a ring like that for $400?" I ask, turning to look at her.

"QVC. I figured, fake engagement, fake ring. No one will question if it's real or not given our combined net worth," she laughs. "Neither of us will want it when this is over, so why waste the cha-ching on the bling, you know?"

I laugh with her this time and put the ring box back in my jacket when she hands it to me.

We walk straight to the stage where Jack is waiting.

"Are you two ready?" he asks, his eyes shining. "I couldn't believe it when you two dropped this bombshell on me two days ago. Edward, I think you know how fond I was of your mother. I can't help but think she'd be happy about this turn of events."

"Yes, sir," I answer. I didn't really know my mother well enough to concur or disagree with any conviction. Coupled with the fact that I feel guilty for lying to Jack, I haven't had much to say to him at all lately.

I place my hand on the small of Rosalie's back as we follow Jack up the few stairs onto the band's stage and walk to the center, stepping carefully over the electrical cords running every which way. Jack walks to the center microphone while Rosalie and I stop slightly behind and a few feet to the left of him. Jack takes the mic from the stand, tapping on the top to test it, but it's not turned on.

"Dad, I think there's a switch on the side," Rosalie says, stepping toward Jack and turning it on for him as I watch.

As people in the crowd notice that Jack is preparing to speak, they gather together, moving closer to the stage, giving him their attention. My eyes drift to the spot where I last saw Bella, but she's not there. I can't fucking believe she's moved on with… Jasper. She always said they were just friends – that she would never be in a romantic relationship with him.

I turn my head toward Rosalie as she comes to stand next to me again, then she steps in front of me, leaning back against my chest. She reaches down behind her and grasps my hands, pulling them around herself in an embrace. I secure my hands together, pressing against her waist, while her crossed arms allow her hands to rest on my forearms. I try to look happy as I look out at the sea of faces again, but I'm having trouble focusing. I still can't find Bella. Fuck. I really hope she left. I never intended for her to hear this…_here_.

Jack raises his right hand and waves to someone on the side of the stage. Instantly, the volume of the background music is lowered to an almost inaudible level. The chatter in the room hushes as well when Jack gingerly touches the top of the microphone again, ensuring that it's on.

"Good evening, everyone," Jack begins. "Welcome to the Hale Software holiday party. We hope everyone is having a great time and I'm going to let the band get going in just a few minutes. But first, I have a very special announcement to make." Jack turns his head briefly to smile at Rosalie and me. I can't see Rose's face to see if she's smiling; I manage a small smile and nod at Jack before he turns to face the crowd again. "After years of friendship, at last the Hale and Cullen families are making a joint venture. My daughter, Rosalie, has accepted the marriage proposal of Edward Cullen!"

As applause reverberates throughout the room, my gaze shifts away from Jack and darts wildly over the crowd, searching for Bella… hoping I don't find her. But I do.

And the look on her face almost kills me.

I've seen that look before – when she was kneeling in front of my mother's grave – and I hoped that day, after everything that happened, I'd never be the reason she looked that way again. But I am. When our eyes meet and hold, I have an immediate reaction – a need to get to her that I can barely control.

Helplessly, I watch as Jasper whispers in her ear, jealousy running madly through my veins again – even though I have no right… no claim on her. When she pulls him down to kiss her – twice – I feel unsteady and tighten my hold on Rosalie. At last, they break apart and Jasper looks straight at me… his hard, icy gaze meeting mine. I recognize that look, too: Don't try to take what's mine.

He takes her hand and ushers her out of the room quickly. She never even looks at me. I guess I should be grateful that someone's caring for her, looking out for her, since I'm not.

Looking down, resting my head lightly against the top of Rosalie's, I take deep breaths, waiting for Jack to finish talking. My thoughts drift back to the night Bella said she didn't love me anymore – even though she'd spent the entire night using her body to tell me she did. Since then, I've often wondered which to believe… her words or her actions.

I want to know… I _need_ to know.

As soon as Jack finishes speaking, I extricate myself from Rosalie, apologizing and saying I need to use the restroom. I make my way off the stage and through the crowd toward the door, stopping briefly to accept congratulatory handshakes and pats on the back from several people. Finally, I make it to the double doors leading out toward the lobby and come to a dead stop.

"Where are you running off to, Edward?" she asks, blocking the doors with her tiny body. "You don't mind if I call you Edward tonight, do you?

"Of course not, Jane," I reply, trying to be polite… trying not to shove my usually-quiet, but-now-surprisingly-emboldened secretary out of the way. "But if you'll excuse me, I'm headed out to the restroom." I smile down at her.

"Really? Because to me it kinda looks like you're chasing after Bella," she states, looking up at me.

I stare at her, unable to say anything. She shakes her head at me.

"What did you do?" she whispers.

"Please, Jane," I say simply. "Let me through. I need to talk to her."

"Do you think that's a good idea? You're clearly upset. And you've just announced your engagement to another woman," she says gently. "No ex wants to talk right after something like that."

"Ex?" I say, feigning ignorance.

"I'm not an idiot, Edward. You two were not nearly as sneaky as you thought. It was written all over both of your faces every time you were in the same room," she chides.

I close my eyes and nod tightly, acknowledging her statement.

"I don't know what happened to end things between you two, but it's a shame. You haven't been happy since," she says quietly. My eyes snap open. I can feel myself starting to panic. She could already be gone.

"Jane, please," I say agitatedly. "I just need to get to her."

"Edward," she says, shaking her head at me slowly. "Pretend I've had enough to drink that I won't remember saying this, okay?"

"Okay," I answer, willing to agree to anything right now if it gets me to Bella more quickly.

"What the hell are you and Rosalie Hale doing?" she asks incredulously. "You're not in love with her… I can tell. Please tell me this relationship of yours involves some sort of espionage… are you CIA?"

I huff out a chuckle involuntarily and shake my head. "Look, Jane, I'll tell you whatever you want to know… Monday. Just please, let me see if I can catch Bella."

At last, with a loud sigh, she steps aside, glaring up at me. "We'll be finishing this discussion Monday… when you take me out for a nice lunch."

Nodding, I rush past her, walking as fast as I can toward the automatic sliding front doors. I glance toward the coat check area as I pass, but don't see her or the ass she was with.

As I exit the front of the hotel, I see them. Bella's already in the car. Jasper is just getting in.

"Bella! Bella!" I yell, racing to the curb just as the car pulls away… speeding away from me.

"Stella!" I call more quietly, knowing it's useless – she can't hear me. Sighing in defeat, I raise a hand to my hair and tug painfully as I watch the taillights disappear down the street.

* * *

"Edward, you're making a scene," Rose whispers urgently from behind me a few seconds later, planting her hands on my shoulders. "We need to get back inside before you completely blow this… before the last two months of planning blow up in our faces."

I turn my head to look over my shoulder at her. "Rosalie, I…," I start, but I can't find the words to express myself.

Trailing her hands down my back, she steps around my side to stand in front of me and puts her hands on either side of my face. Her eyes are kind as she looks at me and tries to soothe me. "Edward, I know. I know. But if you continue this tonight, you might as well paint a big, red target on her. Come on, let's go inside and table this discussion until later."

Reluctantly, I nod and turn to go back inside. She slips her hand into mine and reminds me to smile as we re-enter the ballroom.

As soon as we're inside the doors, she pulls my head down to whisper to me. "I don't know for sure if he saw Bella or not, but he definitely saw you go flying out of here. You're gonna have to really turn it on now or he'll know we're not the threat he thinks we are. He has to think the board will be united behind us."

I nod and speak quietly back to her. "I feel terrible about doing this to your dad though."

Rosalie pulls back to look at me, her eyes fiery for the first time tonight. "I do, too, Edward. But we have to. If we go to him without proof, it will be James' word against ours. We have to get proof of what he's trying to do. And this is the fastest way."

"He's standing next to your dad. I'm going to kiss you. Don't freak out," I say, smiling when I'm able to make her laugh. I lean down and press my lips lightly against hers a couple of times, then look over toward Jack and James. Jack's smiling and I smile back and lead Rosalie over to them.

"Congratulations, cousin… and you, too, Cullen. I didn't realize _this_ was why you were spending so much time in New York," James says, his polite words accompanied by a sneer. "Moving a little fast though, aren't you? What's the rush?"

"James, when you know you've found the right one, what's the point in waiting?" Rosalie answers with a small giggle, looking up at me adoringly. I try to return the look and let go of her hand to slide my arm around her waist and pull her into my side.

It's wrong. It feels wrong. She's the wrong height… she doesn't fit right under the space my arm vacated. She doesn't mold her body to mine and tuck into my side. Her blue eyes, while beautiful, are cool. They don't hold the warmth and emotion that Bella's chestnut eyes do.

But she encircles my waist with her arms and raises her lips to brush affectionately against my cheek. I turn my head and settle my lips against hers again for a split second before turning back to James and Jack. Jack is still beaming at us, so I assume our charade looks believable for the moment.

I wonder if the charade Bella and I put on in San Diego looked like this… it didn't feel like this. I don't know if she loved me then, but I loved her… I meant it when I said I wouldn't tell Peter and Charlotte that my relationship with Bella was pretend. It wasn't – to me.

Forcing myself to push away those thoughts before they manifest on my face, I turn to look at my assistant, Alec, as he approaches us to offer congratulations. After that, a steady stream of colleagues surrounds us to shake hands with me and hug Rosalie. Several people ask us how we got together, how I proposed, making me instantly grateful that Rosalie thought of all that last night and we had our story straight.

As the night wears on, Rosalie and I dance together a few times, pressing our bodies close… looking the part. We both know that for this to work, he has to believe that we are united and have Jack's blessing to become the eventual king and queen of Hale Software.

Ever since Jack announced his intent to retire, James has been jockeying for position. He thought he got the upper hand on me, quietly planting seeds of doubt in several of the board members' minds, but I've trumped him tonight and he knows it. His eyes are panicked, his fingers constantly drumming the outside of his glass of scotch and the scotch inside the glass is disappearing – and reappearing rapidly. Whatever else it is that he's up to – and I have my suspicions – I think this will drive him to rush it along.

Finally, at midnight, Rosalie suggests we go up to our room. When I agree, she steps closer and uses both of her hands to stroke up and down the front of my chest a few times. Recognizing what she wants, I put my arms around her waist and pull her closer, leaning my head down toward hers so that it looks like we're having an intimate conversation.

"Put on one last little show, Edward. Then we'll be all done for tonight," she whispers in my ear, twining her arms around my neck.

I nod my head and press my face into her neck, hoping that it looks enough like a lovers' embrace to fool at least one person. She lets me stay where I am for a minute, running her fingers through my hair before pulling away and pretending to scold me playfully for mauling her in public.

Smiling with faux excitement, we make a quick pass through the room, keeping our arms around each other and exchanging supposedly-heated glances periodically. Eventually, I grab Rosalie's hand and pull her from the room, looking to everyone still at the party like an eager fiancé, anxious to be alone with his woman.

I keep a hand on her until we're safely inside our penthouse suite. We've been staying here for two weeks, since we both returned from New York the week after Thanksgiving. My family wonders what the hell is going on with me. Alice has badgered me nonstop the for the last month about what went wrong with Bella and why I'm spending so much time in New York.

Rosalie goes into her bedroom and I go into mine, agreeing that we'll talk in a few minutes. I take my suit jacket off and hang it up, then pull my tie apart, looping it over the same hanger. I use the bathroom and pull on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, then sit down on the couch in the sitting room in the main part of the suite, flipping channels on the television while I wait for Rosalie.

Fuck. I can't believe Bella was there tonight. I exhale loudly and close my eyes, relaxing my neck and letting my head fall backward to rest on the back of the couch.

I hear Rosalie shuffling across the carpeted floor and feel the couch cushion depress as she sits down.

I sigh loudly.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"For what?" I ask without opening my eyes.

"For all of this… for my cousin… what he's doing to your family… and to you and Bella," she says, her voice still soft and quiet.

"Rosalie, you're helping. I am so grateful to you for doing this… for listening when I first came to you," I answer, opening my eyes and turning my head to look at her. She's wearing a black floor-length silk robe. I'm sure she has a negligee on underneath. When we first began staying in the same hotel room, it scared me a bit. I was afraid she was trying to seduce me. Over time, however, I realized this is just how Rosalie dresses for bed.

"He's trying to fuck with my little cousin... his own _daughter_," she replies heatedly. "And it's a pattern with him. He's blackmailed me before. He's blackmailed you before. And we know he's up to something bad. He'll tip his hand now that he thinks you and I will take over this company when daddy retires in June. This will work Edward."

"I hope so," I respond, turning my head back up to study the ceiling.

"I'm sorry I was so curt with you earlier…especially in front of her. But we have to go through with this, Edward… for Riley, for my dad," she insists.

"I know," I say. Apparently, Rosalie needs to talk. Closing my eyes, I listen to her, but I picture Bella… I picture Bella _happy_. In the sun when we rented that stupid canoe at Green Lake. At the Mexican restaurant in San Diego. Wearing too much blue eyeshadow after letting Riley make her over.

"I didn't want to sound like a sappy little girlfriend though. That's not my style," she says.

I reach a hand over to pat her leg twice. "You didn't. You sounded like a bitch," I say teasingly. But we both know I'm not teasing. She _did_ sound like a bitch.

I pull the fabric of her robe, sliding it idly between my fingers for a minute. It's smooth… soft.

So different from Bella's cotton, comfortable pajama pants or shorts. I can't imagine Bella in the kind of lingerie that Rose wears… she'd look fucking great in it, but it's not her. I liked Bella's stuff better anyway… she always looked beautiful. In some ways, Bella was never more beautiful to me than in her pajamas, without makeup, with her hair piled up in some crazy way on top of her head. That was _my_ Bella. The Bella everyone else didn't get to see.

Stella.

"Jesus. I'm such a fucking idiot," I lament, releasing Rose's robe and pressing my palms to my eyelids.

I feel Rose's hand on my shoulder right before she whispers, "Edward? Do you love her that much?"

"Yeah," I sigh. I don't have anything else to say.

"Jesus, Edward. Did you ever think about just telling her what the fuck is going on?"

"Yeah," I sigh again. "I tried. A couple of times. She wouldn't let me talk. Then she told me she didn't love me anymore anyway."

"And you believed her?" Rose asks disbelievingly.

"Yeah, I did. And then I thought maybe she was lying. I don't know. I hoped that when all this shit with James is cleared up, she'd listen to me and give me a chance... give us a chance. But now she's with Jasper. Jesus, I sound like a freaking girl," I say, laughing. I pull my hands down from my eyes and sneak a glance at Rose. "I didn't mean that the way it came out," I explain, but Rose is amused and just smirks while she shakes her head at me.

I sigh and close my eyes again.

"Edward, I saw the look on her face tonight when my dad made the announcement. It wasn't indifference that twisted her face all up and made her run out of there," she says softly, squeezing my shoulder, then letting her hand drop to the couch. "Are you sure she wasn't pretending to be with him… to make you jealous… or salvage her pride or something?"

Suddenly, the words Bella spoke last summer about why she and Jasper pretended to be a couple come rushing into my head: "To make a few of his old girlfriends jealous."

Oh, my God. What if she _was_ lying?

* * *

**A/N2: Stick with me here... trust me just a bit longer... :)**


	20. With Or Without You

**A/N: So... I've had a crazy few weeks. How 'bout you? :) The school year is winding down around here, which means that I will have to start paying a sitter (kids object to the word "baby"). It also means I will have computer problems in approximately one week. My computer guy loves summer around here. Cha-ching.**

**My brother got very sick very fast a few weeks ago. He's better... but it was a scary few days. Hopfully, he'll continue to recover. As we were rushing to the hospital that first night, my sister and I made up. Even though she didn't apologize for being a beech, we are talking again. In true passive-aggressive form, we never even discussed the fact that we were angry with each other. Oh, well. Life's too short and all that petty crap doesn't matter in the end.**

**This chapter does not end where I originally wanted it to... it got too long. But the next chapter is done and will post Tuesday, as in the day after tomorrow. That chapter ends where this one would have. I got wordy. _Really _wordy. Sorry. :(**

**Big thanks, as always, to my incredible beta, Windgirl810. We have some kind of psychic voodoo - we sometimes go for days without emailing and then email each other at the exact same time... freaky-cool. Love you!**

**More thanks to the pre-readers for this chapter (and the next). Michelle0526 is my awesome fic sis and tries to keep me focused on the task at hand. It's a difficult job. Littlecat358 calms me down, cheers me up and makes me think... and smile. :) **

**Most importantly, thanks to everyone who reads the story. I can't adequately express my appreciation to all of you.**

**Title for this chap comes from the U2 song... Bono and I had a moment last night. Okay, there were 78,000 other people there, but I felt our connection. **

**Ok, on with the show...**

* * *

**Chapter 20: With Or Without You**

**BPOV**

As Jasper accelerates down the circlular drive, speeding us away from the Fairmont, I shakily raise my hands to wipe at the tears streaming down my face, but they're spilling out faster than I can brush them away. In the passenger side mirror, I can see Edward still standing at the curb where Jasper and I just were, one hand buried in his hair.

Blinking furiously to clear my vision, I watch him, standing motionless, getting smaller and smaller in the mirror as Jasper drives on. My heart feels like it's being pulled out of my chest. The pain is so deep, so physical… it's worse than the day at Three Beans… worse than the night he told me to get out of his house.

I want to pull my eyes away from the mirror – away from him – but I can't. I didn't see how he looked when I walked away from him before… either time. I wish I hadn't seen it tonight either. The guilty look I saw on his face tonight will haunt me.

In the mirror, I see his hand drop from his hair and hang limply at his side.

"Oh, my God," I whisper as we turn onto the street in front of the hotel and I finally lose sight of Edward.

"What a motherfucking asshole," Jas mutters under his breath.

"Jasper, don't," I begin.

"No, Bella. _You_ don't." In my peripheral vision, I see him turn his head my way briefly, but I don't look at him. "Don't you dare defend him right now," he seethes. "I know you love him... but how long has he been seeing this other woman? How long must he have been with her to be fucking engaged?"

"Jas, please. I don't want to talk about this... not tonight," I beg quietly, hoping he'll understand. I swipe my fingers quickly under my eyes, almost absent-mindedly… I'm barely hanging on – just barely holding back the all-consuming sobs that start in my soul, then push rippling waves of misery in every direction. Taking a deep, stuttering breath, I let my hands fall to my lap, giving up my futile effort to catch the falling tears. Instead, I turn my head to look out my window, focusing on the bright holiday lights strung along the building facades we pass.

For weeks now, I've been wondering what it was that Edward kept trying to tell me. Every time I saw him, he started talking and every time he did, I cut him off… and… oh, my God… I ran away! I always thought he was the one who would run, but now I realize it's been me… every time. At the cabin. At the coffeehouse. Both times I ran into him when I was out with Emmett and Aro. At his house. Tonight.

Fuck.

It's me.

When it's fight or flight time, I fly.

I blink again, trying to focus on the blur of colorful lights steaming past us outside the car. Clasping my hands together in my lap, I twist them anxiously as I test this new self-discovery.

I remember after I talked to Mama Whitlock at Thanksgiving, I was going to talk to Edward… to see if there was still "meat on that bone" like she said. I've been to Hale Software twice since then, but Edward wasn't in the office either time and I never tried to see him otherwise.

Fly.

I called his house a couple of times, but got the answering machine… and was too nervous to leave a message.

Fly.

I turn away from the window to stare down at my hands.

Why was I so scared? Why didn't I listen when I had the chance?

I guess it doesn't matter now… I guess I know now what he was trying to say.

Rosalie.

Rosalie freaking Hale.

I sigh and lift my head, leaning it back against the headrest.

But Halloween night… how could he sleep with me… how could he tell me he loved _me_ if he was in love with _her_? That's not like him… not like the Edward I knew.

Oh God… my stomach clenches painfully and I lean forward a bit, hoping to quell the cramping. Was the whole thing between us an act for him? Did I not know him at all? Taking a deep breath, I discount that theory. We spent every weekend, then eventually every night, together from the middle of May through the end of September. He couldn't have been pretending that whole time.

So why is he marrying her now… so quickly? Something pulls at the corner of my mind… I feel like I'm forgetting something. What is it? What is my brain trying to tell me? I don't know.

"I'm sorry, Baby Swan. Your place or mine?" Jas asks softly, breaking up my internal monologue… or maybe it's a dialogue since I'm asking myself questions – _and_ I'm answering. That makes me frown for a second. Do I feel crazy? No… not any crazier than usual.

I feel Jasper's hand pat my leg twice – reminding me that I haven't answered – and I unclasp my hands and reach one down to cover his.

"Mine," I whisper, my breath hitching.

We ride in silence the rest of the way to my building.

* * *

Once we get inside my apartment, I walk straight to my bedroom and change into yoga pants and a t-shirt. Then I go into the bathroom, pull my hair into a ponytail and wash off my make-up. Studying myself in the mirror for a moment, I wonder again how this happened so fast. Four months ago, Edward and I were in San Diego pretending to be a couple.

I sigh. Now he's engaged. _Engaged_. To the fricking ice queen who has daddy issues.

In addition to the fact that Edward's engaged, something else about tonight is bothering me: He didn't look happy. I watched him during the announcement, but he wasn't smiling… wasn't looking at Rosalie the way he looked at me at the cocktail party in San Diego. Tonight, his green eyes weren't shining; his smile wasn't wide and genuine. He looked nervous – or maybe worried – when he was standing with her. Even during the announcement, he didn't look excited… attentive… in love.

Or maybe I'm seeing what I want to see – because I don't want to think it's possible that he loves her and wants to marry her.

Knowing that my perceptions are probably skewed by my own feelings, I decide that I must have imagined his discomfort tonight… but still… he came after _me_. Why would he do that unless, like me, he has regrets… unresolved feelings.

No, I can't let myself think that way. It will only prolong the pain. Swallowing down the stubborn lump in my throat – and pushing away the thought that none of this makes sense – I make a face at myself in the mirror and open the bathroom door.

When I get to the living room, Jas is sitting on the couch, his coat and tie discarded, his feet propped on the coffee table, and he's drinking a beer.

"Well, make yourself at home, why don't you?" I tease, trying to ease my heartache with levity.

"Come on, sugar. Sit down," he says, patting the couch cushion beside him with his free hand and lowering his other hand, resting the beer bottle on his thigh. "I made you some tea."

I sit sideways on the couch, tucking my left leg under me so I can face him, and pick up the mug from the coffee table to take a sip.

"Baby Swan, I need a favor," he says, turning to look at me.

"I'm not saving your ass from Big Daddy again, Jas," I tease half-heartedly. "Just because I'm his favorite doesn't mean I can get you out of whatever trouble you've gotten yourself into."

He laughs, reaching over to pat my leg.

"No, that's not it. Unless... what have you heard?" he asks, looking mildly concerned. "Did Mama call to say I was gonna get an ass-whooping about something?"

"Uh uh, but what did you do? You look guilty," I observe, smiling with him when he continues to chuckle.

"Nothin'. And it definitely didn't involve Maggie what's-her-name that Joey's been shacking up with," he laughs, having the decency to look embarrassed about whatever he's done. I would be willing to bet that he will, in fact, receive an ass-whooping when he gets to Texas in two weeks, either from Mama or Joey.

"Stop! Don't tell me anymore," I laugh, raising one palm toward him in the universal sign for shut the hell up. "I want to be able to plead ignorance if I'm asked."

"Okay, okay," he says, aiming his Texas skies at me. "You know I've been looking at houses, right?"

"You mentioned it a couple of weeks ago. I didn't know if you still were or not," I say, feeling bad for being so wrapped up in work and my own unhappiness that I haven't asked Jas much about his personal life lately.

"Well, I think I found one I want to buy. I want you to come look at it with me tomorrow," he says, grinning slightly. I can tell he'd like to smile more widely, but he's probably holding back since he knows I'm feeling shitty.

"Okay. I'd love to, Jas," I say, joining him in the grin. It's about time I stopped being so self-absorbed and started paying attention to what's going on in my friends' lives.

We both sip at our drinks for a moment, the silence between us comfortable.

"Do you want to talk about this?" he asks softly, holding one hand out toward me. I put my hand in his – wishing for the briefest second that I felt the lightning strike with Jasper, wishing I was attracted to him the way I was – no, _am_ – to Edward. When Jasper's fingers wrap around mine, I feel comforted, cared for, loved. But I don't feel desire – from either of us – even though we shared a pretty hot kiss an hour ago. I'm not really tempted to do it again... and he doesn't seem to be tempted either.

"Not really," I answer, studying our hands for a moment.

"Baby Swan, I know this sucks for you and I'm so sorry, but... I – this is gonna come out wrong – I'm proud of you for making yourself feel it this time," he says, prompting me to raise my eyes to meet his confusedly. I shrug slightly and furrow my brow to indicate I don't understand. "After Jake –."

"Oh, hell, here we go," I mutter, rolling my eyes.

"No, Bella, listen. I'm serious. After Jake, you went completely numb on us for almost a year. You drank too much and pushed everything down – didn't let anybody in. You did it for a little bit last fall, too, but you recognized it and stopped; and you're dealing with it," he says, his intense stare holding my attention. "I'm proud of you," he repeats.

"I don't feel strong enough to do this, Jas," I whisper, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, sugar. You are," he insists when I start to shake my head.

"Is this how you felt after Maria?" I ask, searching his eyes.

"Probably. You're dealing with it better than I did though," he says, chuckling. His eyes are amused now, but I saw the bright flash of pain when I said her name. Losing her still bothers him.

"I remember," I remark wryly, thinking of all the bars Emmett dragged him out of – sometimes with a bloody nose or black eye. "I might feel better if I hit someone though."

"Back to the punching bag Monday, okay?" he asks, tugging on my hand until I scoot closer and turn to rest my head on his shoulder.

"Yep," I say. I wonder if I can find a picture of Edward – no, of Rosalie – before Monday. A little visual motivation. The thought of punching Rosalie Hale in the face makes me smile. I hold back the evil queen laugh though. It doesn't make me _that_ happy.

He exhales, ruffling my hair, and presses a kiss to the top of my head. "Do you want me to stay here tonight?"

I shake my head. "I think the worst of it is over. I've cried too much over him," I say. And both of those things are true... but I also know that I'll cry tonight as soon as Jas leaves.

"Well, I think I'll head back to my place then," he says.

We sit comfortably after that, each of us wrapped in our own thoughts as we finish our drinks. A few minutes later, I walk him to the door.

"Give me some sugar, sugar," he says, winking at me. We peck on the lips and then hug before he opens the door.

"Baby Swan, you sure did look good tonight. And your oral skills have greatly improved since the last time we kissed," he teases, ducking away when I mess up his curls. "I'll pick you up in the morning."

After I shut and lock the door, I sit back down on the couch... wishing I could stop wondering what Edward's doing... wishing I could stop loving him. I hold the sobs in, but don't try to stop the tears that slide slowly down my face.

* * *

Sunday, Jasper picks me up a little before noon. As we drive toward the house he wants me to look at, I suddenly become aware of where we're heading.

"Green Lake?" I ask, my stomach turning. I take a sip of the coffee we stopped to get, hoping it will settle my stomach.

"Yeah. Oh, fuck. He lives out here, doesn't he?" Jas asks, looking over at me.

"Mmhmm," I say, still sipping. I exhale loudly. "Probably not for long though. Rosalie doesn't strike me as the Green Lake type. She probably likes trendy condos downtown... or maybe a mansion overlooking the Sound."

Jasper rattles off the address and I recognize the street name as one on a different side of the lake, not very close to Edward's. When we stop at the curb in front of the house, I look out my window.

"Jas, I love it!" I exclaim, opening my car door hurriedly. I stand on the sidewalk waiting for him. It's white and Victorian, with a small turret on the left side and a wraparound porch on the right.

I rush up the sidewalk to the front porch, sliding my hand along the carved railing as I walk toward the front door.

"It reminds me of Jeremy and Scott's," I murmur, turning to look at Jasper. Jeremy and Scott's bed and breakfast is also a large Victorian house.

"Yeah, I guess it does kind of look like theirs. Theirs is a lot bigger though," Jasper says.

The front door opens and a woman peeks around the door. "This is her?" she asks Jas.

"Yes. Bella Swan, this is my real estate agent, Erica," he says. Erica and I shake hands as Jasper and I enter the house. She asks Jasper if we'd like to look around on our own and he says yes, so she stays in the entryway while we walk around.

He takes me through the main floor – a great living room with a window seat and fireplace, a small dining room, a decent-sized, newly-remodeled kitchen and a small half bath. We climb the comfortingly creaky stairs and wander through the three guest rooms. Two bedrooms are connected by a bathroom, but the bedroom in the turret has its own bath… and a round wall of windows.

"This room has great light, Jas. This is the master bedroom?" I ask, turning away from my spot at the window to look at him behind me.

"No, it's at the other end of the hallway," he says quietly, smiling. "Come on."

He leads me down the hall toward another door, trying to act casual, but I can tell he's pleased with my reaction to this house. It's a great house. If I had the means, I'd buy it in a second.

The master bedroom is slightly bigger. It's got good light, too – and a great closet.

He leads me into the attached master bathroom. I gasp quietly and kick off my shoes to walk barefoot across the smooth, tumbled marble floor. Absently, I turn the faucet on in the sink, open and shut the drawers of the vanity, while I eye the large shower in the corner.

"It's all been re-done," he says. Although it's not large, the old-fashioned bathtub is deep and I stop to admire it before moving on. I step into the shower – it's even better than I thought. Two showerheads. Body jets up and down the wall. Heaven.

I gasp. "Oh, my God, Jas! This shower… I would kill for this shower," I laugh, then laugh again when my laughter echoes all around me.

"Baby Swan, I got a proposal for you," he says, looking at me through the glass panels enclosing the shower. "I want you to move in with me," he says, still looking at me.

I'm shocked. He hasn't given any signal that he feels… something. "Jas, I don't know... I," I stammer. Even if I was willing to try with Jasper – which I'm not – nothing would work now. I'm still too deeply affected by Edward.

"As roommates, Baby Swan," he clarifies, laughing at me. "Nice ego though."

I laugh, too, stepping out of the shower. I pretend I'm going to punch him, laughing as he draws his arms up and into his body defensively.

"Roommates," I say simply, leaning against him after I've playfully hit him a couple of times. "That could be good."

"I think so, too," he agrees, nudging me with his elbow. "So?"

"Can I use your shower sometimes?" I ask, biting my lip.

"Sure. What's mine is yours," he says, raising one eyebrow at me.

"Can I have the turret bedroom?"

"Indulging your inner princess?"

"No," I laugh. "I just like the windows… the attached bathroom. I never wanted to be a princess. I can take care of myself," I say haughtily.

"You can have whatever bedroom you want," he shrugs, but a huge grin has erupted on his face.

"Okay, Jas. Let's be roomies," I say, smiling at him… but thinking of all the times during the last seven months when I dreamed of someday moving to Green Lake… to a different house, on the other side of the lake.

* * *

The next eight days pass by in a blur. I have a lot of work to finish up before our office closes for the period between Christmas and New Year's.

The Wednesday after the Hale Software party, I ask Jack to meet me for lunch and finally tell him that I'm going to hand the ad account off to a colleague after the holidays. He says he understands – and I think he really does. He looks at me sympathetically before recovering enough to ask me if I'll still consult on the account periodically. Hesitantly, I agree because I don't want to risk losing the account altogether.

The following Sunday, I cook a pre-Christmas celebration dinner for Em and Jas. We're all leaving town for the holidays soon: Jas is flying back to Texas, Emmett is heading to his family's vacation home in Tahoe, and I'm going to my dad's in Forks.

When I hug each of them goodbye as they're leaving, tears fill my eyes. We don't usually spend the holidays together, but the three of us have grown even closer in the last few weeks as they've helped me get back on track and I'll miss them for the ten days they'll be gone. We've resumed our weekly dinners and movie nights, and both of them have been coming to the gym with me a couple of times a week. Emmett's attempts to look coordinated while openly flashing his dimples at every freaking woman in my kickboxing class might be the funniest thing I've ever seen. But after class, he always holds the heavy bag steady for me while I kick and punch the shit out of it, encouraging me to get my aggression out. Jasper's a little more subtle, but he's on the prowl at the gym, too, still looking for his so-far-invisible perfect woman.

Finally, shivering in the cold on the sidewalk outside my building, we say goodbye, promising to text and call and to reunite on January second when they both get back to town.

* * *

I drive to my dad's the next day and spend four days there, the longest amount of time I've spent at home in years. I enjoy my time with him, even though I have to repeatedly field questions about Edward. It's obvious my dad liked him and wants to know what happened. I can't bring myself to tell him that Edward is engaged now, so I just tell him – over and over – that it simply didn't work out. I leave out all the parts where Edward was too big of a coward to stand up to Jack and where I was too big of a coward to really talk to Edward… to tell him the truth and ask him how he felt about me before it was too late.

But late at night, in the comfort and security of my childhood bed, I let myself think about Edward's whispered "I love you". Was it true? And if it was, then how can he be marrying someone else now? I can't answer that, so I decide it must have been a lie.

Burrowing under the heavy down comforter, I think about that some more. Edward... lying... something nags at the corner of my brain – a quick, undeveloped thought that is gone before I can grasp it, articulate it. What was I thinking about? Right. Edward lying about his feelings.

But why would he lie? What possible reason could he have had to say it if he didn't mean it? It must have been true, at least in that one moment... but he never repeated it, never said it when we were upright and wearing clothes.

Maybe that's it… maybe the whispered "I love you" was sex-related. Don't men supposedly say whatever they have to in order to get laid? Although… no, we'd already slept together when he said it. I don't know. Who can figure out the male brain?

I confuse myself with more complicated scenarios – crazy ones that only make sense when I'm in that hazy place between slumber and wakefulness. In the end, it doesn't really matter… it doesn't get us back to where we were… it doesn't stop my heart from aching for what I can't have. Christmas Day with my dad is subdued and laid-back – thank goodness. But the next day, I drive to Sea-Tac and fly to Phoenix to visit my overly-dramatic mom. The three days I spend with her are enough to last for a while. I enjoy some things about my mother, but after the first day, I grow tired of listening to her self-centered conversations… then I begin to worry that I've been a little too much like her lately. I resolve to pay more attention to Jas and Em when they get back to town after New Year's. And I promise myself that I will try again to repair my friendship with Angela.

Safely back in my apartment on the day before New Year's Eve, I accept when Jessica calls to ask me to go out the next night. She and Lauren are planning to go to a trendy downtown club where Lauren's brother works. I've avoided clubs – and Jessica and Lauren – since I stopped drinking excessively in November, but I don't want to stay home alone on New Year's Eve.

When my cell phone rings the next morning, I'm shocked to see Alice Cullen's name appear on the screen. After taking a deep breath, I answer.

"Hello?" I ask.

"Bella! Hi. How are you?" she asks.

"I'm good," I reply, smiling at the excitement in her voice. "How are you and Riley?"

"Oh, we're doing fine. Riley misses you… _we _miss you," she says, her voice dropping.

"I miss you guys, too," I admit.

"Well, then how about eating dinner with us tonight? Then you and I can go out for New Year's?" she asks, sounding hopeful.

"I'm sorry, Alice. I already have plans," I say gently. I would like to see her, but I don't know if I'm ready. She and Edward are so close… I'm sure she'll talk about him. And I'm not sure I can keep my face neutral when she does.

"Oh. Are you going somewhere fun?" she inquires.

"Going to Metro Lounge with a couple of friends," I say.

"Hmm. Yeah, speaking of friends, what happened with you and Edward? I thought you guys were friends," she says, clearly digging for information.

Smiling sardonically, I answer. "We were. We don't really talk anymore."

"Well, he sure could use a friend right now. He's completely screwing up his life. Why don't you call him?" she asks. "Unless you two were more than just friends… unless there was a big break up."

"Alice," I begin.

"Bella, do you even know what's going on with him?" she interrupts.

"I know he's engaged if that's what you mean," I say softly.

"Yeah, that's what I mean. I don't know what he's doing… he missed Christmas with Riley to be with her. He won't bring her around Dad and me, even though we've known their family forever. I can't even picture them together – I don't get it," Alice says, sniffling.

That's a harsh blow. He must be in love to miss Christmas with Riley; he told me how much he enjoyed Christmas morning with her. Of course, he also said he'd love to spend the holidays with _me_. My stomach twists into knots and I feel sick. Jesus, I can't take much more of this conversation.

"Alice, I'm sorry, but –," I interject. Alice continues talking though.

"Now he says Rosalie wants to meet Riley soon," she says, delivering another quick blow to my composure.

And again, like the night of the Christmas party and the night at my dad's, I have a funny feeling like there's something I'm forgetting… something that isn't quite right. But, like before, the sensation is gone almost instantly, never completely revealing itself.

"Alice, I'm sorry, but there's someone at my door," I lie, bumping the wall with my elbow and hoping it sounds like someone's knocking. "I'll call you soon, okay?"

"Oh, sure. That's fine," she says, but I don't think she believes me. I'm still not a very good liar. Luckily she isn't here in person to see the look on my face.

We say goodbye and hang up. By the time I get to the bathroom, the nausea has subsided somewhat. I splash some cool water on my face, then reach for the Pepto.

* * *

As I get ready that evening, I can't stop thinking about Edward. I think about the day we met… I think about New York… the cabin… San Diego… Europe. I think about the day I admitted to myself that I love him… and the weeks before that when I knew I did, but denied it.

As I put on dressy, skinny black pants and a cream-colored cashmere sweater, I wonder if things between us might have been different if I'd told him how I felt earlier… before Jack found out about us. Would Edward have been more willing to stand up to Jack if we were in a real relationship? I don't know – I'll never know – the answer to that question.

Sighing as I put my phone, ID and credit card in my little purse, I push all those questions aside. I'm irritated when another pops into my head: How long am I going to love him?

* * *

Two hours later, Jessica, Lauren and I are having fun. Lauren's brother reserved us a great booth right at the edge of the dance floor. I've had two drinks, but I'm sipping on water now, content to have a little buzz… and unwilling to let it go any further.

We've danced several times, but are resting for the moment. Jess and I sit in the booth talking and people-watching while Lauren goes to the ladies' room and then gets us another round of drinks.

Suddenly, I notice a familiar face on the dance floor.

"Oh, shit," I say loudly.

"What?" Jess replies, following the line of my eyes. "Oh! Isn't that the guy you were going to marry?"

"Yep," I reply. Maybe I'll get drunk tonight after all. Jake is on the dance floor with a blonde, but he smiles at me and waves when our eyes meet. I turn away without waving back and look at Jessica. She's still looking at Jake, so I turn my eyes to a different part of the dance floor.

Jess sighs. "He's dreamy. Really, BB, you should have married him," she says, leaning close to talk in my ear.

"I caught him in our bed with another woman," I reply indignantly, pulling back to look at her with wide eyes.

"Oh, right," Jess replies, nodding and laughing. "He is hot though."

"Who's hot?" Lauren asks, sliding back into the booth. I hear Jess fill her in as I grab my vodka and cranberry and take a few drinks.

Lauren taps her hand on the table right in front of me to get my attention. "It's your lucky day, B. Your hot client is here, too. I saw him back by the bathroom," she says, smiling at me after I turn my attention to her. I frown, afraid I know who she means, but pretending ignorance. "You know, the one who sent us champagne that night at Bob's. The one you said was kind of an ass."

Ridiculously, my body reacts to the news with excitement – heart racing, pulse pounding, breath panting. I fight the urge to look around for him.

"He's totally an ass," I amend, returning her smile because otherwise I'll start crying. Distractedly, I twirl my bracelet around my left wrist, fingering each charm as it slides by.

"He's gorgeous though," she says. "Is he single? I watched him go back to his seat and he sat at a table full of guys and just one girl."

One girl. One girl for Edward… and it's not me.

"He's engaged to a tall, blonde beauty queen," I say flatly, hoping to mask my pain by sounding indifferent to the fact that he's marrying Rosalie. I turn back toward the dance floor where I see Jake looking at me while he slides his hands over his dance partner's ass. Disgusting. Rolling my eyes, I turn toward Lauren when she speaks again.

"Huh. The girl at his table was little… cute, with dark hair," Lauren replies.

She wouldn't… yeah, she would. Oh, my God. I'm going to kill Alice the next time I see her.

I want a break from the noise… from the chatter.

"Hey, Jess, I need a smoke. Can I bum a cig?" I ask, waiting until she nods absently, her gaze fixed on a group of men standing nearby. After shaking a cigarette from the pack lying on the table and then picking up the lighter, I slide out of the booth and weave my way through the crowd toward the door leading to the rooftop patio area. I hardly look around for Edward's table at all.

When I get outside, the chilly wind takes my breath away and I fleetingly wish I had worn a coat tonight. But it's such a hassle to deal with a coat in a hot, crowded club. Although there are a few people around, I don't feel like being sociable, so I walk over to the deserted far corner, away from everyone else, before lighting up.

I take a drag of the cigarette feeling the once-familiar burn down my throat. I haven't smoked since the last time I went out with Jess in November. I haven't missed it – it doesn't even taste good – but it's a good excuse to escape for a few minutes.

Jesus, I can't believe both Jake and Edward are here. It's like a perfect storm of ex-lovers. Maybe the guy I lost my virginity to in high school will show up next. Chuckling even though I don't find anything about this amusing, I exhale and take another drag immediately.

I check my watch. It's 11:15. I can't wait until midnight so I can go home. I don't want to see Jake. I don't want to see Edward or Alice... or especially Rosalie. She's probably here, too, even if Lauren didn't see her. Leaning slightly over the railing, I look down at the street several stories below – it's practically deserted. I guess everyone is where they want to be to celebrate the new year – everyone except me.

Standing upright again, I let my eyes slide closed. I'm not surprised when visions of Edward fill the darkness behind my eyelids. My heart rate and breathing stutter and then accelerate again when I think of him. Why do I have a physiological reaction to knowing that he's here? How can I still want to be with him after everything that happened? I wrap one arm across my waist, hugging myself for both comfort and warmth, and lift my other hand to my lips to pull on the cigarette once more.

"When did you start smoking?" the gravelly voice whispers in my left ear. I gasp, startled, and choke on the smoke already in my lungs.

"Jesus, you prick. Why are you sneaking up on me? You know I hate that," I say brokenly, still coughing, as I whip around to face Jake. Fucking asshole. Edward never sneaked up on me again after that first time.

"I just wanted to speak to you… alone," he says.

"What do you want, Jacob?" I ask, meeting his gaze with my own steely one.

"Where's the boyfriend? You guys break up or something?" he taunts. I can tell by the look on his face that he must have seen Edward inside and realized we aren't here together. He's taking his leather jacket off so I guess he's noticed I'm shivering.

"Or something," I reply testily. We technically didn't break up. I take another drag and exhale right in his face.

He laughs as he fans the smoke away with one hand, then tries to put his coat around my shoulders.

"Jacob, I don't want anything of yours to ever touch me again," I say – even though I'm freezing.

"I told you guys that pretty don't settle down," he says. His tone is soft, but it's all nasty underneath. "Give me another chance, Bells."

"Not a fucking chance in hell," I spit.

"Come on, Bells. What we had was so good. Let's try again," he says, smiling at me.

I shake my head, dropping my cigarette butt to the ground.

"One more chance?" he queries, moving closer to me. He leans in, his mouth headed for mine, but I turn my head at the last second, giving him a mouthful of hair instead. I start to scoot by him, wanting to go back inside, but he grabs my wrist and tugs, pulling me around to face him.

"Let me go, Jacob," I say through gritted teeth.

"Come on, baby. I just want one little New Year's kiss," he soothes. I recognize the tone; it's the tone he always used to placate me so he could get his way. I almost laugh when I realize how much I've changed since I was with him… I'm stronger than he knows. In fact, he doesn't know me at all anymore.

He leans toward me again, still gripping my wrist with one hand and sliding his other hand up to the back of my head. He grips a handful of my hair near the scalp and pulls painfully. Tears spring to my eyes, but I don't allow myself to cry out in pain.

"No!" I say forcefully instead. I grit my teeth and say it again. "No!"

"Get your hands off her," a hoarse, but still velvet-like, voice calls from behind me.

"Ah, it's the pretty boy," Jacob laughs. He lets go of my hair, but not my wrist.

"Go away, Edward," I say loudly, firmly. I want to turn around and look at him, but I can't take my eyes off Jake until I get loose.

"Yeah, go away, Edward," Jake echoes, laughing and looking over my shoulder at Edward.

I take advantage of Jake's momentary distraction to twist my caged arm and then use my free hand to push hard against my forearm, wrenching my wrist from Jake's grasp. When he starts to grab for me again, I flatten out the palm of my right hand and use it to strike Jake right under his chin, hearing his teeth click together as his jaw slams shut and his head snaps backward.

Surprised, he looks at me with a frown and raises his hand to his mouth, then looks down at his blood-coated fingers as he pulls them away from his tongue.

While he's still distracted by his injury, I step back, plant my left foot and raise my right knee, extending my foot and kicking Jake in the balls with the top of my foot. He doubles over, cupping himself even though it's not the most forceful kick since I can't use my stiletto heel to kick him. Well, I _could_, but I've already successfully stopped his advances. Puncturing his sack might get me charged with assault.

"Jesus Christ, you bitch," he wheezes, not looking up at me.

"You'd best be remembering what a bitch I am, Jacob," I say quietly, bending down to put my mouth near his ear and trying to use my scariest Mama Whitlock voice. I've only heard her use it once.

"Touch me again and I'll punch you in the Adam's apple and kick you in the balls for real – hard. So hard you'll be pissing apple cider and talking like a pre-teen girl for a week," I say angrily, then straighten up. "In fact, let's just agree right now that you'll never come near me again and I won't tell my gun-toting, itchy trigger-fingered, law enforcement father about this little incident. Deal? Deal."

I turn around and walk briskly past Edward, not stopping when he calls my name. Pushing my way through the crowd inside, I make it back to the table and see that Jess and Lauren have landed a couple of guys. They start to scoot together to make room for me in the semi-circular booth as I slide Jess' lighter across the table to her, but I smile and tell them I've had enough for one night and am going home.

"But, BB, it's almost midnight," Jess complains, leaning against her prospect.

I fake laugh and blow off their arguments, then see that Lauren and Jess are communicating something with their eyes. Crap. Based on Lauren's eye movements and Jessica's facial expression, I bet I know who's standing behind me.

I finish my goodbye, promising to call Jess tomorrow as I grab my bag, and step back from the table, running into a wall of chest behind me. That's what I was afraid of. I roll my eyes as I turn around.

"Excuse me, Edward," I say, not really loudly enough to be heard over the music, and step around him, heading for the front door.

I hear him call my name twice, but keep walking… until I'm almost to the door.

"Stella," he says loudly… forcefully.

Jesus. My steps falter and I stop right inside the door to the club, my heart thudding painfully in my chest. I almost can't take being called that… even though I've wanted nothing more than to hear it for the last several weeks.

As tears immediately gather in my eyes, my irritation grows. I cried on Thanksgiving because I missed Ned. I cried on Christmas when my dad asked what happened with Ned. Now I'm about to cry on New Year's over him, too. What's next? Martin Luther King, Jr., Day? Or Valentine's Day? I will kick my own ass if I'm still crying over him by then.

Blinking my tears away, I push the door open and step out onto the sidewalk. I look anxiously up and down the still-deserted street, hoping to see a cab. Not one in sight. God, it's cold. I cross my arms over my chest trying to hold the warmth in. Behind me, I hear the door open again.

"Are you okay, Bella?" Edward asks.

"Yeah. Thanks for asking," I say snottily, then cringe, knowing that I sounded like a bitch. I keep my tone neutral as I continue. "I just want to go home."

"Are you okay to drive?" he asks, coming to a stop right behind me.

"Uh, I took a cab here with my friends," I answer, fighting to keep my tone normal this time. "I'll just wait for one to come by."

"Bella, the street is deserted. Probably will be for another hour at least. Come on. I'll drive you home," he says. I hear the jingle of his car keys as he pulls them from his pocket.

"That's okay, Edward. I'll call someone," I mutter, pulling out my cell, hoping to fake him out. I don't have anyone to call.

"Bella, this is stupid. It's late. It's cold. Just let me drive you," he argues. "My car's just up the street."

Huffing like an angry child, I start walking, already having spotted his car. Before he opens the passenger door for me, he takes off his coat and insists that I put it on. I do… only because I'm freezing… and because it's warm from his body heat… and because it smells like him. Shit. What am I doing to myself?

He closes the door after I'm inside and walks around the front. When he gets in and starts the car, I notice that he still has the moose keychain attached to his keys. A sharp pang of regret over what I lost pulls at my chest and I immediately turn my head to look out the window, hoping to avoid conversation with him.

We drive in silence, neither of us speaking until Edward turns onto my street.

"Is Jasper here?" he asks quietly.

"None of your business, Edward," I reply curtly.

"Jesus, Bella. Can you just answer the goddamned question? Is Jasper here?"

"No. He's still in Texas," I answer quietly, turning my head toward him at last.

"I'd like to come up then... to make sure Jake didn't beat us here," he says, glancing at me for an instant before looking back at where we're going.

"That's not necessary," I say, closing my eyes and shaking my head slightly.

"I'll feel better. Please. I won't talk to you if you don't want me to," he pleads.

"You're going to miss midnight with Rosalie," I say.

"She's in Tahoe. She always goes skiing with her girlfriends for New Year's," he replies matter-of-factly.

"Oh," I say. Spitefully, I wonder how many friends a bitch like Rosalie can possibly have. Realizing I don't have _any_ close girlfriends, my jealousy of her grows.

Edward parks at the curb in front of my building and I get out to wait for him on the sidewalk. We fall into step beside each other and he opens the door to the building for me. Impeccable-mannered bastard.

He asks for my key on the elevator and then asks me to stay in the hall while he checks the apartment; I don't.

"Jesus, you still don't listen," he says, sounding partly amused, partly annoyed. That hasn't changed either.

I shut the door and lean against it while he looks in the bathroom and bedroom. When I hear him coming back my way, I reluctantly take his jacket off. He returns after checking the kitchen and pronounces the apartment all clear.

"Has Jake been bugging you lately?" Edward asks, standing a foot or so in front of me.

"Uh uh," I reply, shaking my head and holding his coat out toward him. "Before tonight, I hadn't seen him since my birthday."

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" he asks, smirking at me and putting his jacket on.

I chuckle twice. "My dad made me take self-defense classes a few years ago, but I've also been kickboxing some lately."

"It was good. I felt completely worthless," he nods, smirking slightly at me.

For a fleeting second, I think back to the day I met Riley when she said she didn't need some _man_ to save her. I almost laugh again as I consider repeating her line, but I've probably sounded enough like a four-year-old for one night.

I shrug. "I can take care of myself," I say instead.

"Yeah, you can. I should have realized," he replies, as the smirk fades from his face.

We stand for a minute, staring at each other. Suddenly, cheers erupt from neighboring apartments, and in the hallway, shouts of "Happy New Year" accompany a ringing cowbell as someone runs up and down the hall heralding the arrival of midnight. Edward and I smile at each other.

"Happy New Year, Stel," he says softly. I close my eyes and swallow, trying to hold the emotion in. I feel tears begin to well in my eyes and pray that I'll be able to stop them before I embarrass myself.

"Happy New Year, Ned," I whisper back, opening my teary eyes to meet his. In slow motion, he steps toward me and bends down to me, then places his lips at the corner of my mouth. I pucker back lightly, barely touching the skin of his cheek before he pulls away. Our eyes meet and hold before mine slide closed as he leans in again, sinking his hands into my hair this time. He kisses me in the same spot, leaving his lips there for several seconds longer than is necessary... or polite... or smart.

I think I move first, but I can't be sure and I guess it doesn't matter. Abruptly, our heads turn, our lips slide until they meet, press together. Desperate for him, I open my lips immediately, groaning when his tongue sweeps into my mouth. The kiss is frenzied, but not sloppy. I slide my hands up his chest to twine around his neck while he glides his hands down my sides to circle my waist. He pushes me more forcefully against the door with his body as I clutch at his hair, his jacket.

Desire races through my body as Edward continues assaulting my mouth. I sigh softly as he slides his tongue across my lower lip before using his lips to capture it and tug gently. He breathes my name quietly as he pulls his mouth away, moving his lips down the right side of my neck and then gently sucking at the spot where my neck and shoulder meet. Outside my door, the hallway has quieted down; the only sounds I hear are the panting, gasping breaths of Ned and me.

He moves his lips back to mine, then down the left side of my neck, pulling the neck of my sweater aside to run his tongue along my collar bone. Wanting to be closer to him, I pull at him with my arms and lift one leg to wrap around his as he hugs me more tightly, too. It feels so good... he feels so good.

Without warning, my brain pushes the thing I most want to forget to the very front of my brain.

He's marrying someone else. Oh, God. I've become the other woman.

"Edward, stop. Stop," I say regretfully, lowering my leg... opening my eyes. I wish I hadn't remembered – wish I could forget. He raises his head up to look at me, desire still evident in his eyes. He wants me, I know, but there's something else... something that remains unspoken as he lowers his eyes.

"Sorry, Bella," he whispers, tugging the neckline of my sweater back into place and moving back several inches. He doesn't completely step away though.

"Me, too," I reply softly. "That can't happen again. I won't be someone you screw around with on the side. I deserve better than that... Jesus, even Rosalie Hale deserves better than that."

"And Jasper?" he asks, his eyes lifting, burning into mine.

Shit! I forgot about Jasper. "Um, yeah… Jasper," I hastily agree, nodding as I drop my gaze to the floor.

When I look back up at Edward, he's smiling slightly. What the hell? He was mad as a hornet at the Christmas party when he met Jasper.

He nods, stepping back from me. We stare at each other silently for a moment. "You don't think Jake will come tonight? Or start bothering you after tonight?"

"I don't think he'll come by. I'm moving this weekend anyway," I say before thinking it through.

"You're moving?" he asks interestedly.

"Yeah. Out in your neighborhood – Green Lake. Opposite side of the lake from you," I say.

"You bought a house?" he asks.

"No. Jasper bought it. I'm moving in with Jasper," I answer, not realizing until after the words are out of my mouth that I made it sound like we're moving in together, not that we are going to be roommates. Oh, well. It doesn't really matter at this point.

The slight smile that was on his face fades to disbelief before it becomes a full-blown scowl. "So, you and Jasper really _are_…," he says, letting his voice trail off and backing away from me.

"Edward, it's not –," I begin, but he interrupts me.

"Seems I was right about Jasper all along – he _was_ harboring feelings for you. Moving pretty fast, though, aren't you?" he asks, his voice low and angry.

"Well, that's ironic coming from you," I respond, laughing humorlessly. "Were you seeing _her_ while you and I were still... together?"

"No. I wouldn't do that," he says strongly. "You and Jasper... you weren't already with him... Halloween?"

"No," I whisper, shaking my head, keeping my eyes on his. "You and Rosalie?"

"No," he answers quietly. The scowl has disappeared, but it's replaced by the saddest expression I've ever seen on his face. I want to comfort him, but I force myself to remain standing where I am.

The seconds tick silently away while we remain silent, staring at each other. Finally, Edward breaks it.

"Bella, I didn't mean what I said before. I'm glad that you found what you wanted. I always wanted you to be happy," he says sincerely. I can't imagine being less happy than I am at this moment.

"I always wanted your happiness, too," I reply, my voice cracking at the end. I'm not sure I want to know the answer to the next question, but I can't stop myself from asking. "Are you happy, Ned?"

He lifts one side of his lips in a sad half-smile, but doesn't say anything. Guess he's not answering that one. Sighing, I walk to my favorite chair and sink down into it, kicking my high heels off and curling up on the seat with my feet tucked under me.

"Well, I should get going. It was good seeing you," he says. I look up at him, try to memorize his face. I know I probably won't see him again. "I guess I'll see you next week at the ad briefing meeting," he remarks offhandedly.

"No, you won't. I got that tourism account for the city. Remember? The one I was working on right before... um," I answer, pausing to swallow. "Anyway, I handed the Hale account over to Tyler. He'll do a great job for you. And, of course, Emmett will still be the lead on the account, so he'll be around, too."

"You weren't going to tell me?" he asks, frowning.

"I met with Jack before Christmas and let him know. You haven't been as involved since... you know, so I just left it up to Jack to tell you," I reply, shrugging.

"Stella," he says, looking pained.

I shake my head, then look down at my lap, as I fold my hands and dig my nails into the skin. "Edward, I think we've exhausted our options for conversation at this point. Thanks for bringing me home."

"You're welcome, Bella," he answers, turning toward the door. Neither of us speaks again as he opens the door and lets himself out.

I get up and lock the knob and deadbolt immediately – before I decide to chase Edward down the hallway. I make it back to the couch as the sobs begin.

* * *

"I still can't believe you two are going to live together," Emmett says. He's lying in the middle of Jasper's new living room floor. He hasn't moved for half an hour from the spot where he collapsed after helping us move all day.

"It makes sense. I need a roommate. Bella lives alone and her lease is up at the end of January. It worked out perfectly. Right, Baby Swan?" Jasper asks. He's lying on the couch, eyes closed, seemingly exhausted, too.

I'm sitting in front of the built-in bookshelf under the window seat, arranging my books onto one side. Jasper's books are already loaded onto the other side.

"Right, Jas," I answer, only half paying attention to my boys. I'm thinking about Edward again. It seems like I've done little else for the four days since New Year's Eve. I've worked, packed, moved and now unpacked all while pre-occupied with thoughts of him: the kiss, the conversation, the way he looked at me when I told him I was moving.

I drove by Edward's house twice today, thinking that if he was home, I'd stop and say hi… clear things up. Clear up the fact that I'm not _with_ Jasper. The first time I drove by, the house looked like it was locked up tight. The second time, Alice's car was in the driveway and the garage door was open, but Edward's car wasn't inside. I probably should have just stopped, said hello to Alice and Riley, and asked for myself if Edward was there, but I didn't.

Because Bella Swan is a scaredy-cat. Again.

Behind me, Emmett and Jasper are still talking about Jasper and me living together. I'm still barely listening… until I hear Emmett's prediction.

"You guys will wind up fucking sooner or later," he says with a chuckle.

"Knock it off, Em," Jasper says, sounding irritated. "You know it's not like that between us."

"Not yet," Emmett responds. "I'm just saying… two adults, one house, lots of opportunities to see each other naked and knock boots."

Knowing that half of Emmett's fun is getting me to react, I choose to stay seated, facing away from him, even though I'd like nothing better than to whip the book in my hand at his head like a ninja star. It's a big hardback book. It would hurt.

As I predicted, when he doesn't get a rise out of me, he quiets down. There's a lull in the conversation behind me that lasts so long that I wonder if both of them have gone to sleep.

"So, neither of you really asked me how my trip to Tahoe went," Emmett whines, breaking the silence.

"Bullshit!" Jasper erupts.

"I did, too!" I say strongly, spinning around on the floor to face him. Jasper is sitting up on the couch now looking incredulously at Emmett.

"Fine, fine. You asked. But I didn't tell you everything," he says, sitting up too and scooting over to lean against the raised hearth of the fireplace.

Everything? He didn't really tell us anything. Emmett was uncharacteristically quiet about his holiday, so much so that Jas and I talked about it and decided something big must have happened… something Emmett wasn't ready to share. We had each asked again, separately, but didn't glean any further information from him. Knowing he would tell us when he was ready, we'd both left him alone about it for the last couple of days.

"Hold that thought," Jasper says as he stands up and walks into the kitchen. I hear the refrigerator door open and shut and then a drawer open and shut, followed by the unmistakable sound of three bottle caps being popped off. When he re-enters the room with a sheepish grin and passes out beers, I get up and move to sit on the couch facing Em.

"Okay. I figure there's a story here that's either going to be so bad that we'll need consolation, or it's going to be so good that we'll celebrate," Jasper laughs, sitting down on the couch, too.

"Well, my sister's knocked up, so I'm going to be an uncle," Emmett announces, smiling. We each congratulate him on his impending status change and take a drink.

"And my parents don't seem to hate each other as much as they did last year," he laughs. We laugh with him and take another drink. Emmett's parents are great – and very devoted to each other. But they bicker nonstop.

"And I met the hottest chick ever on New Year's Eve," he says, his booming voice still loud, but his tone… softer. The shift in his voice is almost imperceptible, but I'm suddenly on high alert.

"Really? Ever?" I ask nonchalantly, slouching down into the couch. If I look too eager, Em will clam up. Jasper must have heard the same thing in his voice because he takes a big drink of his beer and props his feet on the coffee table. Non-threatening postures assumed by both of us.

"Yeah, Bell, _ever_." He rolls his eyes… but he's masking something… he's not really irritated with me.

"Where, may I ask, did you meet her... and how many drinks had you had?" Jasper asks, teasing him.

"None. So, I was on the slopes in the afternoon," he begins, grinning over at us. "On a black diamond slope."

"Emmett, you're not good enough to ski a diamond slope," Jasper laughs while I giggle next to him. I've never been skiing, but every Christmas Emmett complains about how everyone else in his family can go on more difficult trails than he can.

Emmett laughs, too. "No, shit. But my new brother-in-law bet me a Benjamin that I couldn't do it. You know I had to try," he explains, shrugging and then taking a drink of his beer.

"Idiot," I mutter under my breath, shaking my head at him.

"Yeah. It kicked my ass. I ended up tumbling down the whole mountain ass over skis like a fucking cartoon," he laughs. I laugh for a moment, too, as I imagine a giant snowball with skis rolling down the mountain.

"But you were okay?" I ask through my giggles, tipping my chin down and looking up from underneath my brow at him. I can see that he's okay now, but I'm trying to discourage him from doing that again.

He shakes his head. "No, I'm pretty sure I was knocked unconscious." He pauses and takes a drink of his beer. "But when I woke up, there was an angel hovering above me," he says, his voice taking on that dreamlike tone again.

"You had a near-death experience?" I ask, trying to figure out what he means.

He laughs. "No, no. Not fluttering wings with a halo angel. A Victoria's Secret angel," he clarifies.

Jasper chokes on the beer he was drinking, coughing and sputtering his way through his erupting laughter. Whacking him on the back, I laugh a little, too.

"I'm not kidding," he insists. "She was fucking gorgeous. She helped me up. My chin was cut open and bleeding. She said her family's condo was ski-in and not far, so she took me there," he expounds.

"And?" Jasper prompts.

"She bandaged the cut on my chin," he says, nodding and pausing. "And then we had the hottest fucking sex ever on the bathroom counter."

"Ew, Emmett!" I complain. "TMI."

"And then again in her bed," he says. He's not laughing though like he usually is when he brags about his conquests.

"And then?" I ask before raising my beer bottle to my lips.

"I left," he answers quietly, lowering his eyes and picking at the label on his beer. He's not done, but he's silent for a moment, so Jas and I are, too. "She's moving to Seattle this summer," he finally finishes, shrugging one shoulder.

"Are you going to see her then?" Jasper asks, leaning forward. I stay in my unassuming position, but I'm listening intently.

Emmett shrugs, not looking up at us. "Don't know how I'd find her. We didn't exchange names or anything," he says flatly.

"You aren't going to look for her?" I ask, tilting my head at him.

"Nah," he replies, looking at me and curling his lip a bit. "I mean, she was cool and stuff, I guess. If it's really meant to be, I figure fate will drop her in my fucking lap again."

"What if fate thinks if you're too stupid to get her name and number, then that's your own damn fault?" Jasper laughs.

Emmett chuckles. "I guess I deserve that. It's probably best to leave it at one perfect afternoon anyway," he says, then sighs quietly. "But I'll tell you one thing: That was the best fucking hundred dollars I ever lost."

* * *

The next Friday after work, I open two beers and walk into the living room. Jasper is sitting on the couch watching sports on the flatscreen. I hand him a beer and sit down beside him, resting my feet on top of his on the coffee table.

"Wow. If I'd known you were going to bring me beers while I watch sports in front of the TV, I'd have moved in with you a long time ago," he says, jabbing me playfully with his elbow and taking a drink from his bottle.

I'm drinking from mine, but lower it to glare jokingly at him.

"Oh, Baby Swan, you know I'm kidding," he says, reaching over to squeeze the ticklish spot right above my knee.

I lean my head over to rest on his shoulder. "Jas, you're my best friend," I say softly.

"I know that, Baby Swan. You're mine, too," he says softly. "You have PMS or something? It's okay if you do, but I've never lived with a woman before except for my mama – unless you count Jeremy – so I'm gonna need a little guidance here on what you need from me. And when to stay the hell out of your way."

I laugh lightly. "No PMS for a couple of weeks, but I do need something from you now. I need a favor," I say tentatively.

"Anything, sugar," he says.

"I need you to return this to Edward for me. I can't just leave it on his porch – it's too expensive," I say, handing Jasper the long, slender, velvet box I was holding in my other hand.

"You're giving back your bracelet?" he says, nudging my head off his shoulder and forcing me to look at him. I nod sadly. "Christ, Baby Swan, why? It means so much to you."

"That's why. It's inappropriate. I've attached more sentiment to it than I should have – more than he meant me to. I can't wear it anymore, can't keep it anymore," I say, sniffling softly.

"Can I look at it?" he asks, opening the box before I even answer. I shrug anyway. He's looked at it before. I wore it every day from my birthday until New Year's Day. But after Edward left my apartment, I took it off and haven't put it back on. "What the hell do all these charms mean?"

I touch each charm one last time, explaining to Jasper what each one represents – except the ones about sex. But he gets it anyway, judging by his chuckle.

"He picked all these out himself?" he asks.

"Yeah. Drove around to a bunch of different jewelry stores to find them all. It took him all day on my birthday. That's why he missed dinner and going out," I say.

"Hmmm. And you didn't think this guy had feelings for you?" he asks.

"We were close, Jasper. Good friends. I'm sure that's the spirit in which I was supposed to accept it. It doesn't matter now anyway. He's marrying someone else," I reply flatly.

"Baby Swan, we're best friends…but, sugar, I have never put this much thought into a gift I bought for you."

The tears that have gathered in my eyes are spilling over now, so I lay my head back down against his shoulder.

"Jasper, please. I don't want to talk about it anymore. I don't want to think about it anymore. Just please take it back to him," I plead.

"Okay, okay," he soothes, snapping the velvet box closed and setting it down beside his leg. "Why don't we order Chinese and watch scary movies tonight? It's our first Friday night in our new abode – let's do something we love." I know he's trying to cheer me up… and I think it might work.

"Sounds perfect."

* * *

Twice during the next week, I remind Jasper to take the bracelet back when the box continues to lay on the kitchen counter where he left it the night I gave it to him. A day later, it's gone, but Jasper never says anything about Edward's reaction and I never ask.

Around that same time, Jasper begins disappearing in the evenings – late – leaving the house after eight o'clock and returning sometime around midnight. He never shares where he's going, always just saying he'll see me later. Assuming it's a hook-up, I usually just chuckle and tell him to have fun.

And he must be enjoying himself because he's in a great freaking mood – all the time.

A couple of weeks later, I'm home alone on a Saturday afternoon. Jasper's working, Emmett's at his sister's for the weekend and I've got nothing to do.

Amazingly, Angela has started to let me back in her life a little bit. We had coffee this morning and we're talking about resuming our Sunday evening runs. I'm so happy to have her around again – even a little. She's tentative with me, but I'm trying to prove myself by being a great listener and not wallowing in my own self-pity… even though I still struggle internally with everything about Edward.

Killing time, I pick up the house a little and wonder when Jas will be home. I don't call him though. I'm trying not to be a clingy roommate. After another hour, I decide to indulge myself and head for his shower.

After leaving a note on his bed which describes in detail the physical harm I will do to him if he walks in on me, I close the double doors to his bathroom and turn on the shower. Once I'm in, I adjust all the nozzles and edge the temperature up until it's as hot as I can stand it.

Twenty minutes later, I turn off the shower and am surprised to hear music playing in Jasper's bedroom. I hear the low tone of his voice and wonder if he's talking to himself or if he thinks I can hear him through the closed door.

Curious, I pull my robe on and open the bathroom doors.

"Oh, my God!" I exclaim. "Jasper, what the hell are you doing?"

Jasper sits up immediately, grabbing his discarded shirt and draping it across the chest of his giggling paramour.

Oh, fucking hell… I know that giggle.

* * *

**A/N: Pleeeeaaase don't slam me yet... it wasn't supposed to end here. :) I cross my heart and hope to die, New Year's was the last time these two flawed, insecure, over-reactors meet without someone knowing the truth.**

**Thanks for reading - please review...**


	21. Stella Gets Her Groove Back

**A/N: Hoooooly heck. It's been a day. Just barely even getting this posted on Tuesday in my time zone... **

**Returned a little while ago from the ER with my dancer daughter who sprained her ankle. We were afraid it was broken, but thankfully it's not. She has to be on crutches for a few days and then in an aircast for a week, but should be good to go after that. **

**My boys brought home baby snapping turtles from their camping trip. What. the. hell? **

**My kids have texted me approximately 50 times the last two days (their first days of summer) with important questions and witty comments... such as "hey" and "can we have Coke with lunch?". I love summer.**

**A million thanks to Windgirl810 for beta'ing about 40K words in the last week. Mwah!**

**Littlecat358 and Michelle preread for me and aren't annoyed with me... much. I've been quite annoying this week, definitely. And kinda sorta whiny. **

**Thank you for reading... please review!**

**Oh, hell. I keep forgetting to say I don't own Twilight. I don't. There, I said it.**

* * *

**Chapter 21: Stella Gets Her Groove Back**

"Alice?" I ask quietly, hoping it's not her…then hoping it _is_ her because otherwise Jas is going to kick my ass for saying one girl's name while another girl lies half-naked on his bed.

"Hi, Bella," she answers, unembarrassed, sitting up and clutching Jasper's t-shirt against her chest.

"I guess you didn't see my note," I muse, smirking at them. "It's probably under Alice's ass."

She lifts up and Jasper finds the note, reading it to himself. His whole face and neck are red, which I suddenly find very funny. I laugh uncontrollably, only trying to control myself when Jasper glares at me.

"What's so funny, Baby Swan?" he asks, annoyed with me.

"This whole fucked up situation. How did you two….when?" I ask.

"When I took your bracelet back, Edward wasn't home. Alice and Riley were there though. We just started talking," Jas says, his glare melting into a slight smile.

"Jasper told me the truth about you two," Alice says soberly, watching me to gauge my reaction. "We came here today to tell you the truth about us, but we didn't think you were here."

"I yelled for you when we got here," Jas says sheepishly. "Then… well... uh, we thought we were alone."

Still laughing a little, I nod. "I get it," I remark wryly. "No need to explain."

Alice clears her throat softly, reclaiming my attention. "We're haven't told Edward yet, but, Bella, we can't hide it forever." Her eyes are wide and happy.

My eyes dart to Jasper's. He's positively beaming at me. As understanding dawns, I smile back at him, getting teary.

"Awww, you two really….of course you do, you're perfect for each other…..I'm so happy for you both," I stammer, finally managing to get some words out that make sense.

Sniffling, I watch as they look at each other.

"Where's Riley? I can stay with her if you two want a night out or alone or whatever," I offer.

Alice swivels her head quickly to look at me. "Gosh, Bella, that would be great! She's at Edward's. Could you pick her up and take her back to my house? I promise to be home by midnight," she asks. I didn't really absorb anything after she said "Edward's".

"I can't….could you get her and bring her to me? I can't go there… see him," I whisper, tears collecting in my eyes again, but not from happiness this time. Since New Year's, the raw pain has slowly subsided, but I know seeing him again so soon would rip me wide open again. I'm getting stronger… and I don't want to lose the progress I'm making.

Avoidance? Yes. That is the Bella Swan way.

"Oh, my god! Oh, no, honey. I wouldn't make you. Edward's not there – he's out of town. Riley's there with Esme," she says, talking a mile a minute as she tosses Jasper's shirt aside and pulls her own back on. "Esme's redecorating a couple of rooms at Edward's. They're over there testing paint and fabric swatches or something. I'll call her and let her know you're picking Riley up."

"Who's Esme?" I ask, my irrational jealousy flaring, wondering how many freaking women one man needs. He's already engaged to the ice princess and now he has a decorator on the side, too?

"Esme is the woman who is bringing my dad back to life," Alice explains, pausing to look at me and smile softly. "They met right before Thanksgiving and have been together ever since. This is the first time I've seen him happy since…ever, really. I don't remember much about what life was like before Mom died."

"Wow, that's great, Alice," I reply, genuinely happy that maybe Edward's family can heal after all these years. Thankfully, she doesn't mention Edward… or Rosalie… or Edward _and_ Rosalie. "Okay, I'll get ready and pick Riley up in…half an hour?"

"Thanks, Baby Swan," Jasper says.

"You're welcome. It's the least I can do after interrupting….that," I say, waving my hand around at them and laughing as I hurry out of the room.

* * *

Even though I know he's not home, my heart is in my throat as I drive to Edward's house. My hands shake as I climb the steps to the front porch and ring the doorbell. The woman who opens the door puts me somewhat at ease though. She's pretty, probably in her early fifties and dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt.

"You must be Bella," she says, holding out a hand to shake mine. "I'm Esme. I've heard so much about you from Carlisle and the family."

"Hi, Esme. It's nice to meet you. Alice just told me that you and Carlisle…" I let my voice trail off. She laughs, getting my meaning as I step inside, then turn to face her in the entry. After she shuts the door, she turns to me, smiling widely.

"Yes. We've both been alone for a long time. We're good for each other, I think. And we're having a hell of a lot of fun," she says lightheartedly. I laugh with her. "Riley and Alice both speak so much about you that I feel like I know you already. Can you sit for a few minutes and chat?"

I answer yes and walk into the living room... but I can't sit on the couch. Swallowing uncomfortably, I look over to the corner by the bookshelf – letting my eyes land on the big chair and ottoman. I can't sit there either. I finally settle into the Stickley rocker and push myself slowly back and forth as Esme and I talk for a few minutes. I like her immediately; her caramel-colored eyes are warm and seem to draw me out of the shell I'm usually in when I meet new people. After a few minutes though, she checks her watch.

"Oh, goodness. I didn't realize it had gotten so late. I'm supposed to be ready for dinner in an hour," she laughs. "Let me get Riley for you – she's playing out back." She disappears through the kitchen and out the back door.

Standing up from the rocking chair, I wander over to the fireplace mantle. There are new pictures up since I was last here – some new photos of Riley and Alice…and several of me. One of Edward and me in San Diego, one of us in New York. One of Riley and me on the porch swing eating ice cream. Not a single picture of Rosalie anywhere I look.

I bite my bottom lip, wondering what the hell this means.

Bella, don't overanalyze, I tell myself. It probably means Edward hasn't spent a lot of time here since the summer… since the time _I_ spent a lot of time here.

Before I can contemplate any further, the back door bangs open and a golden-haired, purple-coat-wearing streak races across the floor.

"Bella!" Riley screams, rushing toward me and launching herself into my arms as I bend down to catch her. We both laugh as I stand back up and she hugs me tightly around the neck. Esme walks back into the room, smiling as she sees us clinging to each other.

Our reunion is interrupted by the shrill ringing of the phone. Esme picks up the cordless from the end table beside the couch and frowns at the screen, I assume reading the caller ID, before answering.

"Hi, Edward. It's Esme," she says when she answers the call. "Oh, you're back? Uh huh… no, no… Riley didn't mention that you called." Esme pauses to look over at Riley. Riley looks back at her for an instant before diving for my neck again, burying her face and pulling my hair around herself to hide from Esme's partly-amused, but also a little perturbed look. I squeeze her tighter and pat her back so she knows she's not in trouble with me.

"No, I'm done here. I was just leaving," she continues, her tawny eyes studying me… inquiring. I shake my head minutely. I don't want Edward to know I'm here. "I think Riley has a sitter for the night. Yes, I'll tell Alice. Okay. Bye." She clicks the phone off and replaces it on the charger, then turns to look at me.

"He's just getting off the five. He'll be here in a few minutes," she says quietly, looking sympathetically at me. Apparently, Alice has filled her in on my friendship with Edward.

Riley rears back to look at me. "Bella! Let's wait for Uncle Edward. He'll take us to Zeppi's," she says excitedly, her bright blue eyes twinkling.

"Sweetie, I'm sure Uncle Edward will be tired from his trip. Besides, I thought we'd try some place new… just you and me," I tempt.

She gasps. "Like a girls' night out? My mommy goes on those!"

Esme and I both laugh.

"Exactly. A girls' night," I agree.

She wiggles around until I set her down and then she rushes to hug Esme goodbye. When she pulls me out the door a minute later, I call a hasty "goodbye" and "nice to meet you" over my shoulder, then follow Riley to my car. Quickly, I help her get buckled into the booster seat I borrowed from Alice, desperate to get away before Edward arrives.

As I drive away a minute later, I see a black car approaching from behind and wonder if it's Edward's black Audi. Not wanting to stick around and see, I accelerate, speeding off in the opposite direction.

Flying again.

* * *

The first week of February, Jasper and I attend a four-day conference in Miami. When we originally planned this last fall, we intended to head south to Key West for a week when the conference was over. But now Jasper is going to San Francisco early Friday morning to meet with a potential client.

Truthfully, even before the client meeting came up, I had a feeling he'd head back to Seattle rather than Key West at the end of the week. He's absolutely crazy about Alice and doesn't want to be away from her – especially on Valentine's Day next week.

Thursday night when the conference is over, Jas and I eat dinner together. He has to leave the hotel at dawn tomorrow to catch his flight to the West Coast. All through the meal – hell, all through the week – he's talked almost nonstop about Alice.

I study him now, only half-listening to whatever he's telling me about her this time, instead watching the way his Texas skies shine... the way his face lights up... the way he laughs about something she just texted him. He's smitten... besotted... spoken for. And every time I've seen Alice lately, she's looked exactly the same. I'm thrilled for both of them, but especially for Jas who never gave up hope that the perfect woman for him existed somewhere.

I often wondered how I would feel when Jas found someone; he hasn't had a girlfriend that I considered serious since college. I always kind of thought I would feel some measure of jealousy, but I don't. It probably helps that I already know Alice and like her; it definitely helps that I love Riley and know how badly she could use someone like Jas, especially since Alice says Edward hasn't been around much the last few months.

Since Rosalie. Ick.

I involuntarily shudder, even though I'm sitting right next to the patio heater at the open-air restaurant. Although I know that stewing about her isn't good for me, I let my mind drift back to that day last June in the Hale Boardroom... the day I met Rosalie. Her dislike for me was instantaneous and palpable. Edward said it was because Jack liked me, but now I wonder if it was because _Rosalie_ liked _Edward_.

Still smiling for Jasper, I sigh quietly for myself. Last June doesn't matter. The fact that I was his NYC virgin doesn't matter. The fact that something between Edward and me shifted that weekend doesn't matter.

Rosalie has him now.

"You excited about your week with Jer and Scott, Baby Swan?" Jas asks, pulling me from my childish, self-indulgent musing.

"Of course. I love any time I spend with any of the Whitlocks," I answer, snapping back to reality.

When he insisted that I go on to Scott and Jeremy's without him, I wavered; I've never been down there without Jas. But I also realized that Jas and I are entering a new phase in our friendship and I'm going to have to get used to doing more on my own… because he's going to be with Alice. And Riley.

Alice hasn't told Riley about Jasper yet, but says she's planning to soon. She wanted to make sure he was going to stick around, she said. I felt a little guilty when she told me that, knowing that it was difficult for Riley when I suddenly disappeared from her life last fall. But I've stayed with her several times in the last couple of weeks so Jas and Alice could go out and we've picked up right where we left off. I have the horrible makeover pictures on my phone to prove it.

I'm even starting to love purple.

So, happy for my best friend, but also a little displaced and wondering where I fit in now, I agreed to spend a week of R&R at Scott and Jer's bed and breakfast. They've been emailing me dueling schedules – Jer's is filled with shopping and touring historical landmarks; Scott's is filled with watersports and touring the finest drinking establishments on Duval Street.

Noting my faraway smile, Jas asks what's so funny. Laughing, I fill him in... and then, as I expected, the conversation segues right back to Alice.

"I can't wait to take Alice down there," he says, smiling widely again. "Baby Swan, you should come down with us. I told her I want to bring her and Riley down in September. Will you come?"

"Of course," I answer immediately, smiling back.

"I haven't been very good company this week, have I?" he asks softly, his smile descending into a slight frown in a split second.

"Jas, you've been fine," I argue.

"No, all I've done is talk about Alice. I know you're still sad and I've done nothing but rub my happiness in your face," he says, screwing his mouth sideways a bit the way he does when something bugs him.

"Jasper Whitlock, you listen to me and you listen good," I say, leaning across the table a bit and lowering my voice to Mama Whitlock's intonation. "You, more than anyone I know, are due for a double-shot of happy... and for that matter, so is Alice. This just couldn't have worked out better."

"Baby Swan," he begins, but I hold my palm out toward him.

"Hush now," I command, using Mama's tone again, and smiling genuinely at my best friend. "She's perfect for you."

"She is pretty great," he allows, nodding. We spend the next few minutes discussing her some more and then walk to the elevator together.

When we part ways outside my door, we hug tightly.

"See you back at home," he says, twisting us side to side a bit. "Need a ride from the airport?"

"Yeah, probably. I'll call you, okay?" I ask.

"Yep. Have fun with the boys," he says, pulling away from me. "And Bella? I think when you get back to Seattle, it might be time for you to try on someone new."

Ah, here comes the eternal optimist matchmaker. For the last two weeks, Jas has been trying to set me up with some guy he plays poker with... or some guy he knows from college... or some guy he met in line at Starbucks. Usually, I turn him down flat... but tonight, for the first time, I think he might be right.

I nod and he winks back at me. Thankfully, he spares me the pep talk that normally accompanies these attempts.

"Gimme some sugar, sugar," he says instead, leaning in to kiss me. Since I found out about him and Alice, we kiss on the cheek instead of the lips. I would never want her to think there were romantic feelings attached to our friendship. It would hurt her and could ultimately damage my friendships with both of them.

We say goodnight and I let myself into my room, locking the safety latch and then leaning back against the door with a big sigh.

Inevitably, I think of Edward again: his insistence that Jasper felt more than friendship for me... his belief that Jasper and I are together now. He's wrong about both things, but I only tried to convince him he was wrong about one. I should have tried harder to tell him that I'm not in love with Jasper.

Would it have mattered to him?

As I get undressed and wash my face, I wonder.

As I pack my suitcase, I wonder.

As I turn out the light and lie between the cold, smooth sheets alone, I come up with two answers.

My head says no.

But my heart says yes.

* * *

Late the next morning, I wait impatiently as the bellman puts my bags into the trunk of my rented convertible while I toss my tote bag and purse into the back seat. As soon as I'm in the car, I lower the top on the car, pull my hair into a ponytail and put on my sunglasses.

Before long, I'm heading south on Highway One, the sun warming my skin… the wind whipping my hair. This is really the only way to drive the Overseas Highway through the Keys. I haven't traveled a lot in my life, but I can't imagine a more beautiful drive than this one, hopping island to island across bridges and surrounded by turquoise blue sea.

At one especially stunning point, I pull off to take some pictures. Standing on the side of the road, looking out at the vastness of the ocean in front of me through the lens of my camera, I have an epiphany. I'm going to be okay. No matter what happens with Edward, with Jasper and Alice, I'll live through it. And I realize that for the first time in a long time, I am content to be alone… I'm not afraid to spend time by myself. That reinforces my decision that maybe I'm ready to date again… because it's okay with me if I don't.

Thoughts of Edward intrude, as they always seem to, but the accompanying feeling is less painful than before. It still stings a bit… I still love him – I think I always will – but I feel… hopeful. I feel like I can make room for someone new – can have a relationship with someone else while still treasuring my memories of him… of us. Discarding my flip flops and smiling to myself, I lower the camera from my face and stroll across the sandy beach, looking out at the water, feeling more like myself than I have since late August. I am healing. I can let him go now. I want him to be happy…and I want to be happy too.

A few minutes later, still smiling at my newfound sense of peace, I get back in the car and drive the rest of the way to Key West singing along with the radio.

It's almost sunset when I pull into Jeremy and Scott's driveway. I sigh happily as I turn the car off and look longingly at the hammock under the banyan tree on the side of the house. I will be spending some time there this week, I vow.

"Baby Swan!" I hear from the porch. Turning my head to look at the house, I sigh deeply. The bed and breakfast is like a fairytale confection – a sunny yellow house with white, gingerbread trim and a wide, white front porch. Green wicker furniture is scattered along the veranda and dotted with bright pink cushions. If Lilly Pulitzer made houses, they would look like this.

Finally resting my eyes on Jeremy, I wave, grinning and seeing him grinning crazily back at me. "Get your ass up here," he calls.

Grabbing my bag from the backseat, I walk quickly up the sidewalk, launching myself into his arms when I'm close enough. He hugs me tightly and carries me inside the house where Scott emerges from the kitchen doorway to hug me next.

Jer takes me up to the room that is mine for the week, telling me to come down when I'm ready. Unhurriedly, I unpack and freshen up, allowing myself to do everything slowly instead of rushing through life the way I often do at home. When I'm finished, I go back downstairs and find Scott and Jer waiting for me on the back deck with wine and food. They've built a new pergola in back and we sit at the table under it, eating by the light of the tiny globe lights strung above.

"I love this," I remark, gesturing to all the new outdoor settings. We used to always sit by the small pool, but this part of the yard is beautiful, too.

"We built it for our friends' wedding and it looked so good, that we've been advertising it on the website," Jer says proudly. "We've booked weddings for all the weekends in May and June."

"That's great," I say, smiling widely. Jer is so good at this. He used to be a party planner, but hated the stress of supervising plated dinners for thousands of people. This is his ideal job. Scott is an attorney on the island and jokes that he mostly pleads down speeding tickets or drunk and disorderly citations now, but he's very well-respected.

I am startled when my phone rings a few minutes later, then roll my eyes at Jer as I answer.

"Hi, Jas," I say with a laugh.

"Hey, Baby Swan. Just making sure you rolled on in safely," he drawls.

"Yes, dad, I arrived in one piece. Now your brother and Scott are plying me with food and drink," I say. "How is San Fran?"

"It was good. I'm at the airport now, heading back north. I can't be away from Alice any longer," he says.

"Awww, young love," I say snickering a little. Jeremy's frowning at me. "Jasper Whitlock, why does your brother look like he doesn't know what the hey I'm talking about?"

"Um, I haven't told my family about her yet," he says sheepishly.

"All right. I'm handing the phone over," I say, giving Jeremy the phone. Jer and Jas talk for several minutes, then I take the phone back to say goodbye.

"Wait, Baby Swan. I need to tell you something. Alice and I are telling Edward the truth this weekend. So he's going to know that there's no you and me, okay?" His voice is soft… he's nervous, I think, about my answer.

"Yes, Jasper. I don't expect to hear from Edward anyway. But you and Alice shouldn't hide your relationship," I insist firmly.

Jasper exhales loudly into the phone. "I know. It hasn't been a good week for him though. Did you hear that James Hale was arrested yesterday?"

"No, I didn't," I say, my heart rate accelerating. It's there again… something at the edge of my mind… tugging my arm, wanting attention. But Jasper starts speaking again, interrupting my runaway train of thought.

"Yeah, I'm not sure exactly what happened yet – I just found out a couple of hours ago. I guess he was trying to undermine Jack's authority with the board at one point, but what's going on now is somehow related to a new operating system Hale has coming out next year," Jas says.

"Hmm. I was never really aware of what they were working on," I hedge, trying to speak normally even though I'm having trouble breathing right. I know a little, but it's information I had because of my proximity to Edward last summer, not because of my job. From what he told me though, it could propel Hale to the top of the software world.

"I'm kind of surprised Emmett hasn't called you. He said Jack and Edward both asked for you yesterday," Jasper admits quietly.

I swallow uncomfortably and take a big drink of my wine… pretending it's Pepto.

"He didn't call," I say unnecessarily.

"He and Tyler must have handled everything then," Jasper soothes, probably recognizing the panic creeping into my voice.

Taking a deep breath, I push away my worry for Edward and focus instead on Alice and Riley. I hope this development means that Alice will be safe from interference from James. I know Edward was worried when James moved back to Seattle – afraid that he'd start messing with Alice… or, worse, figure out Riley is his daughter.

"Yeah," I say distractedly, madly trying to find the serenity I had earlier today. Dammit.

"Shit, I have to board my flight. Listen, I'm not calling you this week because I want you to relax, but you call me if you need anything," he says hurriedly. In the background, I hear the scanner beep as it reads his boarding pass.

"Okay. Love you, Jasper. Good luck this weekend. I'm so happy for you," I say, meaning every word. We hang up and I go back to my conversation with Scott and Jeremy, concentrating on taking slow breaths and listening to them… and drinking just one extra glass of wine so that I can forget about Edward.

I wish it worked.

* * *

"This place is more fantastic each time I'm here, guys. You need a maid or a baker? I want to live here," I say wistfully as I sip my coffee in the kitchen the next morning.

"Say the word, Bella, and we'll keep you," Jeremy says. "My little brother would never speak to me again, but I do have three other brothers, so who cares?"

I laugh, but I was half-serious. I really could move here. I could leave all the drama behind and live a carefree life in the sun and fun…except for hurricanes. And Jasper and Emmett. And Angela. And Alice and Riley. Oh well, it would have been fun. I'll just have to settle for spending time here every year.

When Jeremy leaves the kitchen to serve breakfast to the other guests, I ask Scott if he knows any available straight guys on the island. Despite my decline back into Edwardland last night, this morning I am forcing myself back to Plan A: Try someone new.

"Yeah, a bunch. What are you after?" he asks, looking up from his bowl of cereal.

"I don't know…a little fun," I say, smiling at him. Then I decide I'd better be more specific. "But no drunks or manwhores."

"Well, that whittles the list down substantially," he laughs. "Do they have to be relationship material?"

"No…this is just an experiment. To see if I'm ready to tread back into the dating pool. I figure it will be safer here since I'll be gone in eight days," I laugh.

"Sure. I can set something up…we were planning to take you out on Mark's boat tomorrow night. I could invite someone for you," he offers. I smile and nod.

He stands up and offers a hand to me, pulling me to my feet and then into a hug.

"Bella, I don't think it's any secret that all of us were a little worried about you at Thanksgiving. I'm proud of you – the way you've pulled yourself back up," Scott says. I squeeze him a little tighter and exhale contentedly.

"Thank you," I whisper, silently vowing to be as strong as he thinks I am.

* * *

I spend the day lying by the pool, walking on the beach and reading Hemingway in the hammock.

Saturday night, Scott drags me down to Sloppy Joe's for drinks while Jeremy stays back at the B&B to tend to their guests.

Scott and I have a great time, drinking shots and beers until everything and everyone is funny. Momentarily, I worry about the excessive drinking, but then realize this feels different. This is fun with a friend, not drinking to drown out feelings. During the course of the night, Scott introduces me to a guy sitting near us at the bar. Brady. He's blond, tan and cute. He moves over next to us to talk and is a little flirty with me.

While Brady's talking to someone else, Scott turns to me.

"So? I'm thinking of inviting him as your date tomorrow night. He already knows everybody else going, so he'll fit right in. Is he okay?" he whispers, smiling at me.

"Yeah. He's cute… seems nice," I answer. "But don't call it a date, okay? It's just hanging out."

He agrees and must mention it to Brady while I'm in the bathroom because when I come back, Brady asks what I like to drink, saying he'll bring it tomorrow for the boat ride. We talk a little about drinks and finally settle on him surprising us all with something.

As Scott and I walk back to The Palms later, I feel happier than I have in a long time. Spending time here with my friends, having a hot semi-date, and relaxing in the sun have all done wonders for my attitude in just one day. As I snuggle into bed, I almost don't think of Edward at all. Almost.

* * *

"Hey, Bella," Brady says, squinting at me in the mid-afternoon sun. He reaches a hand out to help me as I step onto the boat.

"Hi, Brady," I answer, smiling at him. He's as cute as I remember, the blonde streaks in his hair shining in the sun, his light green eyes standing out against his lightly tanned skin. When I grasp his hand and his fingers close firmly around mine, I feel a spike of... something... rush through me.

Oh, my God. I'm physically attracted to him. I haven't been attracted to anyone since Edward, haven't felt the tingles spread across my skin since Edward. Until now. It's not as immediate, not as jolting as I remember, but the flicker of desire is there, nonetheless.

Huh. Guess the girls didn't shrivel up and die without Edward after all. That makes me smile. Not because I don't have Edward. That still makes me sad. I smile because I think this is another sign that I'm healing... slowly. It feels good.

Once I'm onboard, Brady squeezes my hand gently and then lets go, offering to take my bag. I let him, following him as he carries it inside the small galley kitchen to put away the food Jeremy and I made for the afternoon and evening we plan to spend on the boat. I ask him questions about his life and he reciprocates as we work in tandem to find a place for everything in the fridge and small cabinets. Then I help him make a pitcher of margaritas and a pitcher of something else with rum which we pass out to everyone outside.

When we're done, he makes a berry vodka and soda for me and a rum and coke for himself, then we carefully climb to the front of the boat to sit in the sun.

Finally, Mark starts the engine and we pull away from the dock and head out, planning to cruise close to shore. Brady and I continue to talk easily, both of us eventually pulling our shirts off to soak up more of the sun. I slide my shorts off, too, even though I'm self-conscious about sitting here in my tiny bikini bottoms. When I packed for this trip, I thought I was only going to be hanging around Scott and Jer and their friends. I wasn't planning on a date being around, too. These bottoms show way more skin than I normally would around someone I don't know that well.

Brady sits close to me, our arms bumping together several times as we each point at different things we see – dolphins, pelicans, really cool houses. He walks me down when I need to use the restroom and waits to help me back up, fixing us fresh drinks and grabbing snacks for us before we settle ourselves again. When he notices me wiggling around trying to get comfortable with nothing to lean against, he convinces me to sit in between his outstretched legs and rest against him.

When I lean back against his chest, my heart speeds up a bit and I feel his beating rapidly against my left shoulder, too. He's talkative, but not annoying... not conceited at all even though he's made a pretty good name for himself as a south Florida local-interest writer. It feels nice to sit skin to skin, to feel the rumble in his chest against my back when he laughs. After an hour, Scott joins us on the front of the boat. I hear him coming and start to scoot away from Brady, but he hooks an arm around my waist from behind.

"Where are you going?" Brady asks, leaning down so his mouth is right next to my left ear. His voice is hushed, raspy. Goosebumps erupt down my left arm as the warmth of arousal spreads slowly, warmly, through my veins.

"I didn't know if you'd want me to be sitting here in front of people," I answer breathlessly.

"I want you sitting here," he responds. Smiling, I relax against him once more and tentatively rest my elbows on the top of his thighs. He traces the backs of his fingers down my right arm slowly, ending at my hand and intertwining our fingers. "Is this okay?" he whispers, just as Scott sits beside us, facing us.

I nod, then crane my neck to look back up at Brady. He smiles down at me.

Scott entertains us with stories about some of the crazier guests they've had at the inn and Brady chimes in with a few stories of his own about some of the legendary Key West locals. He tells me about the article he's writing for a south Florida magazine. I'm listening, but since I'm on my second tall glass of vodka and soda, resting against a firm, warm chest, in the hot sun, I'm having trouble staying plugged-in. I have my eyes closed most of the time, turning my face toward the sun like a flower.

"Do you have any sunscreen, Bella? You're getting a little pink," Scott says. Brady offers to go get it from my bag, leaving Scott and me alone for a moment.

"So... you look happy," Scott says with a laugh. "Are you coming home tonight, daughter? Or will you be shacking up?"

"Stop it," I say, smacking his arm lightly and laughing with him. "I'm not shacking up. I might make out with him for a while though."

"Yeah, he's cute. He seems to like you, too. But I'm not sure monogamy is his thing, Bella," Scott warns.

"Well, since I'm only here for a week, I don't really care about that. I'm not hopping in bed with him or anything, if that's what you're worried about. But he's highly kissable," I say, leaning over against Scott.

"Damn straight," Scott says. "I mean, damn, I wish he wasn't straight." We both laugh and then he begs me not to tell Jeremy he said that.

When Brady comes back, he spreads a towel out for me and encourages me to lie on my stomach for a while. He sunscreens my back, and I feel the rush of desire again when he spends more time than necessary on the area right above my bikini bottoms.

"I think you got that spot already," I point out teasingly.

"Really? It doesn't look like it. I'd hate to have you sunburnt due to my negligence," he answers lightly.

"Jesus, you two are making me horny just watching you," Scott says with a smile. "I'm going to go find my man." He stands up and walks to the back of the boat. A minute later, we hear all of the guys back there laughing.

"Think they're talking about us?" I ask, smiling, as Brady lies down on his stomach beside me.

He smiles back. "Definitely. We're a rare Key West species – the heteros," he says and we both laugh. "They're probably spying on us, too, like little old ladies. Should we give them something to watch?" I raise my eyebrows at him and stare at him as he takes his sunglasses off and lays them down. His light green eyes sparkle in the sunlight.

"Are you going to kiss me?" I ask flirtatiously as he raises onto his elbows and starts to lean my way. I push my sunglasses up to the top of my head so he can see my eyes.

"I'd like to kiss you. You're not gonna slap me or anything, right?" he asks, his smile widening as he closes the distance between us. I have a sudden urge to trace the smile lines around his mouth, so I do, using my index finger to run along the two curvy indentations.

"Right," I reply. Then his lips are on mine, soft and warm and tasting of rum. It's an awkward position, so after a couple of short kisses, we both pull away and lay our heads back down. We smile at each other and hold hands between our shoulders, talking quietly for a while until he yawns and closes his eyes. I fall asleep, too, waking up as the sun is sliding slowly into the ocean an hour or so later.

Brady is sitting beside me, watching me, smiling at me. When I start to get up, he scrambles to his feet to pull me up and steady me, then we walk to the back of the boat. We spend the next two hours eating and drinking with the four other couples. Then Brady takes my hand and lures me toward the front again.

Our towels are where we left them earlier and we lie down again, on our backs this time, and look up at the stars. He points out several constellations – some of which I knew – and then his face hovers over mine, blocking out the sky.

"Bella, I'd like to see you again before you go back to Seattle," he says quietly.

"I'd like that, too," I respond. And I would. I like him.

He leans down to kiss me again and I slide my arms around him immediately. We breathe into each other and then he uses his tongue to lick across my bottom lip. That's all it takes to fully awaken my body from the Edward-slumber it's been in. I moan quietly into his mouth and he grunts back. Our kisses become more fervent until finally he pulls back, then drops a kiss onto my shoulder.

"I have to stop before I embarrass us both," he murmurs against my skin. "I have to drive to Miami tomorrow afternoon and I won't be back until Wednesday, but I'd love to see you tomorrow morning… and take you to dinner Wednesday night."

"That sounds great, Brady," I agree, taking his outstretched hand and letting him pull me up to sit beside him.

We spend the rest of the evening that way, arms and hands intertwined, trading kisses every few minutes. Eventually, everyone else except Mark – who's driving – joins us, bringing a couple of bottles of red wine and some cups with them. Brady doesn't stop kissing me even though the spies are much closer now. The taste of the red wine on his lips is sweet, pungent, intoxicating. It feels good to like someone again even though it's not the same as Edward. But I don't think anything will ever be that strong, that all-consuming, again.

By the time Brady hugs and kisses me goodbye on the dock and I reluctantly follow Scott and Jer up the walkway back to land, I'm definitely smitten though.

"He sure is a pretty thing, Baby Swan," Jeremy remarks. I turn to look back once more, watching as he helps tie the boat and then stands, his hands resting on his lean hips. He sees me looking and waves. I wave back before turning around again.

"He sure is," I agree with a smile.

* * *

Monday morning, Brady comes to the Palms for breakfast. We eat by the pool, talking and eventually swimming for a little while before he has to leave.

Once he's gone, I hang around the house, helping Jeremy with a few things. I bake some cookies, then some muffins, then some cupcakes. Jeremy really does try to hire me then. Laughing, I tell him if things work out with Brady, I'll take the job.

While we're sitting by the pool late Monday night, Jer's cell phone rings. Pulling it from his pocket, he looks briefly at the screen before holding it to his ear.

"Hey, baby bro," he says. "What's up?"

Jer's eyes widen and he sits up from his lounge chair. "Really?" he says quietly into the phone. "Yeah, she's… oh, okay… hang on." Jeremy's eyes slide my way as he stands up, then he turns and walks briskly toward the house.

"What the hell?" I ask, turning to look at Scott. He shrugs, seemingly just as clueless as me.

Jeremy reappears several minutes later and retakes his seat.

"It was Joey," he explains when I look quizzically at him. "He just had a couple of questions. Hey, Baby Swan, did you know Joey's dating that Maggie chick?"

"No way!" I exclaim. He and Scott fill me in on all the latest news from Texas. It doesn't occur to me until I'm in bed later that they effectively diverted me from whatever was really going on.

* * *

Tuesday Scott works from home and covers the B&B so Jeremy and I can spend the day out. We shop, we sun, we climb to the top of the lighthouse. He stands next to me and holds all my bags as I get a beaded braid put in the right side of my hair at one of the street kiosks. I'm way too old for this, but it is my vacation. I'll take it out when I get back home.

Tuesday night, Jer gets the inn's cleaning lady, Mrs. Clearwater, to stay at the house so the three of us can go out to dinner.

While we're at eating, I get a text from Jasper.

***You're welcome, Baby Swan.**

I have no idea what he's talking about.

***Huh?**

***You'll see.**

Perplexed, I ask the boys if they know what he's talking about. They both feign innocence, but exchange a look.

"Did you guys get me a hot stripper or something?" I ask jokingly. They don't laugh, but smile at me. Not real smiles… uncomfortable smiles. Oh, shit. "Boys, I do not like surprises," I warn.

"I know, Baby Swan," Jer says sympathetically, reaching over to squeeze my shoulder reassuringly. "Quit worrying. Let's finish eating and then we'll walk to Kelly's for a nightcap. Okay?"

I sigh loudly. He knows he'll get me with Kelly's. It's one of my favorite places to go on the island. "All right. But there better not be any funny business, boys. I mean it. Whatever your brother's up to... you'd better not be in on it. In fact, you'd better put a stop to it."

Jer and Scott exchange another look, but then distract me by bickering about what color to paint the parlor. Relaxing somewhat, I listen with amusement... they sound just like Mama and Big Daddy. Well, except Big Daddy would never bicker about paint color.

Once we're finished, we begin leisurely strolling the several blocks to Kelly's. Jer and Scott are on either side of me and seem to be consciously keeping me in between them because every time I veer a little, they do, too. I wander back the other way; they do, too. Cautiously, I look around wondering if we're in a bad part of town, but we don't seem to be.

Inexplicably, I feel nervous when we turn the final corner and I can see Kelly's at the end of the block. My body seems to recognize something I don't, descending into fight or flight mode again… stomach churning, palms sweating, heart racing.

I'm still walking between the guys and I have a brief thought that they're protecting me from something… or keeping me from fleeing from something. Trying to control my shallow breaths, I glance up at Jer, then turn to look at Scott. Both of them smile tightly at me; Scott places a hand on my lower back to keep my pace steady when I hesitate.

The street is fairly crowded for a Tuesday and the noise of the crowd, plus the sound of the steel drum band music being piped out of Kelly's, makes it difficult for me to concentrate on what Scott and Jer – and Jasper – have planned for me.

As we're crossing the street toward Kelly's, I glance toward the dimly-lit brick steps at the entrance. There are a several people standing around in the shadows, talking… laughing… smoking. It all seems harmless.

Still on edge, I wipe my palms on the sides of my shorts and try to breathe normally… but something is off. I feel… I'm scared to feel what I feel.

The following sequence of events seems to happen in slow motion as all external noise fades to the background. As shadow people move and shift, I'm only aware of the sound of my thundering heartbeats… the sound of my flip flops slapping my heels with every step. As I walk, I glance down at my feet, trying to match the sounds with what I see.

When I look back up, I see a man standing alone at the bottom of the steps. He's tall, broad-shouldered. His hands are stuffed in the front pockets of his shorts.

It's dark, so I can't see his face... but I would know that messy-haired silhouette anywhere.

Edward's here.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I asked you to hold off the slams last chap and most of you did. :) If you wanna slam me now, the floor's yours.**


	22. Changes In Latitudes

**A/N: I do not own Twilight. I do not own my old house anymore either. That is cause for celebration! :)**

**I'm staying up late to post this... I have to be at the airport in six hours for a work trip... I haven't packed yet. Basically, I'm figuring I'll get about two hours of sleep. I'm not trying to make you feel sorry for me, but if you do, I accept alcoholic consolation... :)**

**Thanks for the favorites/alerts/wonderful reviews lately. I sucked at review replies the last two chapters, but I do read and save and treasure every single one... even the ones where people yell at me. ha Believe me when I say, I will be much better in August... yes, that means I will most likely suck again until then. After July, my work life (and consequently my home life) will dramatically improve.**

**Thanks, as always, to my fanfreakingtastic beta, Windgirl810. I heart you and your witchy, magic ways! Mwah.**

**Two amazing ladies pre-read this chapter: littlecat358, thanks for narrowing my focus in a couple of spots and not letting me be lazy. Yes, what you said was spot-on and perfect. Michelle0526, thanks for putting up with my multiple neuroses (and wicked PMS) and for reading version after version of "Ned" without complaint. Love you both!**

**That's it... I really do need some sleep.**

**So, where were we? ;)**

* * *

**Chapter 22: Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes**

* * *

I stop abruptly… stop walking… stop moving… stop breathing.

As I flex my knees, trying to keep my legs from buckling, I feel Jeremy slide his arm through mine to hold me up – or hold me in place. I'm not sure which.

My body, acutely aware of Edward's presence before I saw him, continues to react to his proximity. My legs remain motionless, but I draw a shaky breath, willing my racing heart to slow down.

Emotions race through me in no particular order – confusion, relief, surprise. What is he doing here? Why would Scott and Jer lead me right to him?

When I see him start walking toward us, I try to take a step backward, but with Scott's hand on my lower back and Jer's arm wrapped securely around mine, I find that I can't move away – can't flee – the way I want to.

"Oh, hell no," I seethe, impressing myself with the quiet steel of my voice; my voice doesn't betray my panicked state… yet. "Let me go."

"Sorry, sugar," Jer drawls quietly. "Jasper warned us that you'd try to run."

Well, that's annoying. I wasn't aware that Jasper realized I fly when faced with difficulty.

"Bella, you're strong enough to handle this," Scott adds. "Jasper sent him to talk to you."

"Fucking Whitlock buttinskis," I mutter, my anger flaring when I hear Scott and Jer chuckle softly.

Edward is getting closer and as he emerges from the shadows, I get my first real look at him; he looks tired… and nervous… and beautiful.

Edward stops about two feet in front of me and I see him swallow. "Hi, Bella," he says, his normally smooth voice sounding strangely raspy.

"Edward," I reply warily. "Uh, this is Jeremy Whitlock, Jasper's brother, and this is Scott Holt." Edward shakes hands with each of them in turn, but swings his eyes right back to my face afterward. His green eyes, once my downfall, have not lost any of their potency over the last few months; I feel myself sinking into them at once and know I'll have to fight like hell to keep my distance.

Me, a fighter? Not so much.

Edward licks his top lip quickly before he speaks. "Bella, can I talk to you for a few minutes? Please?"

Refusing to give into the swirling emotions inside, I force my face to remain expressionless… but I know that if he can see my eyes, he'll know exactly how much turmoil I'm in. Greedily, my eyes roam his face, the pain of seeing him again slowly being overtaken by the joy of seeing him again.

What's he doing here? What does he want?

In one little corner of my mind, a realization begins to bloom, demanding attention. I push it away and force myself to think rationally as I close my eyes briefly.

He's a client… he's just a client.

A client who flew literally from one corner of the country to the opposite one to talk to me… probably about business.

That makes sense, right? I open my eyes and repeat it to myself: Just a client.

My traitorous brain is a few steps ahead of me though and is putting the puzzle pieces together before I can stop it. All those things during all these weeks that have bothered me are clicking into place.

Luckily, denial and I are old friends; I find that slipping right back into the safety of a world of my own creation is easy. And in that world, Bella is just an advertiser and Edward is just a client.

"Yes, of course," I answer, trying on my client voice. I feel confident then, and I think I sound it, too.

Edward exhales in a gust. "Thank you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

When I step forward, my captors let go of me and Edward turns to the side, allowing me to move past him and lead the way into Kelly's. Silently, we walk up the shadowy steps and into the bar area. Stopping, I turn to face the three of them.

"Lucy, Ethel, you two schemers have a seat at the bar. Edward and I need to talk alone," I say, leveling Scott and Jeremy with a Mama Whitlock glare that lets them know immediately that they are not out of the woods yet. They veer to the left and sit down on barstools before I turn back around and lead Edward outside to the courtyard. I choose a table near the middle where I can see Scott and Jer sitting inside the open-air bar.

When Edward tries to help me with my chair, I wave him off. "I got it," I say, scooting myself in.

Edward sits down across from me a takes a deep breath. "Bella," he begins.

"Hang on," I interrupt. "The waitress is coming." There's no way I'm letting him take charge here. I need to maintain some of the control.

Our waitress is young and pretty. She tells us that the gentlemen at the bar have ordered my drink, but asks Edward what he wants. He orders a beer and then looks over at me.

"Are you hungry, Bella?" he asks.

"No," I answer shortly, then realize how rude I sounded. I adjust my tone as I ask, "Are you?"

"I could eat," he replies, shrugging like it doesn't matter either way, but I see him eyeing the food on the tables near ours.

"Order something, Edward. The crab cakes here are to die for," I say.

Edward orders the crab cakes and the waitress suggests a cup of conch chowder, too. After he agrees, she disappears.

"Bella, I don't know if you've talked to Jasper," Edward begins, looking at me for confirmation one way or the other.

"Not since Friday," I answer.

"I assume you know about… them?" he asks.

"Yes," I answer. "I think it's great." I smile slightly.

He nods. "Yeah, I think so, too… now," he says, smiling slightly, too. "I was pretty pissed off when I first arrived at Alice's though – before they told me. When I walked in and saw Jasper with his arms wrapped around her… I thought he was cheating on you."

"Oh," I say, rolling my lips together as the smile fades from my face. "We were never…," I remark, shaking my head and letting my voice trail off.

"I discovered that… after I hit Jasper," he admits, his face reddening in shame.

"You _hit_ him?" I ask, incredulously, leaning forward across the table, momentarily forgetting my keep-my-distance motto.

"Well, I thought he was… you… _and_ Alice," he stammers. "Neither of you deserves to be hurt."

While I'm still processing the fact that he tried to defend my honor, he continues.

"But they told me the truth fairly quickly and I apologized to both of them," he says. "And then I told some truth of my own… and that's when Alice hit me." He smirks and shakes his head slightly and I can't help smiling softly back at him.

"Why did Alice hit you?" I ask, putting my elbows on the table and using one hand to prop my chin. I'm vaguely aware that I'm still leaning toward him, that my body language is much too open, but… I can't help it. Damn green-eyed White Lightning.

"She was pissed. I should have told her earlier what was going on… I should have told _you_, too," he says, his voice filled with regret.

Told me what was going on… with what? Frowning, I reason that he must be talking about Rosalie. He came all the way here to apologize for not telling me about _her_? That cures me of my leaning-forward tendencies. I immediately retreat, slumping back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. Then, realizing how that looks, I lower them to my lap. No need to look hostile and betray the fact that this man still holds my heart in his hands.

"I can't see how it matters now, Edward. I've moved on… just because it wasn't with Jas doesn't mean it isn't true," I insist.

Edward nods but doesn't speak, studying me silently as the waitress sets down a water for each of us, then my drink – a bright blue concoction in a hurricane glass – and Edward's beer. I pick mine up and take a sip from the straw, then turn and give Scott and Jer a thumbs up, before turning back to Edward. I force a smile onto my face even though I'm dreading having to hear the rest of his apology about Rosalie.

"Bella, I know it might be too late… too late for me to say what I need to say to you," he insists, leaning across the table toward me.

I drop my eyes to the tabletop, twisting my glass back and forth and watching the sloshing blue liquid… waiting… waiting for Edward to say whatever it is that he needs to get off his chest. When he remains quiet, it occurs to me that he's waiting to see that he has my attention, so I take a deep, calming breath and raise my gaze back to his face.

"When I was in Europe with Jack, James started emailing me… calling me. I… didn't think he knew about Riley, but he did. He wanted… he threatened… Christ, Bella, I wish I wasn't screwing up this explanation," he says, raking his hand through the top of his hair twice.

Edward is uncharacteristically flustered. At this moment, the urge I have to hug him, comfort him, is so strong that I have to talk myself into staying in my own seat. My traitorous body is leaning forward again though.

"Edward, it's okay. Just talk to me," I say gently, wanting to make it easier for him.

He swallows before he continues. "He told me he would take Alice to court – take Riley away unless I did some very specific things. Jesus. I should have told you all of this when it happened, but I was so shocked that he even knew Riley existed and so scared about what he'd do that I agreed without thinking it all through."

I'm shocked, too, that Jamie knew about Riley. I feel sick thinking of him being anywhere near her.

"Why would he…he doesn't strike me as the kind of person who even likes kids. Why would he want Riley?" I ask, my own concern mirroring Edward's.

"He didn't. He wanted more power at Hale and he knew from experience that I would do anything to protect Alice. He just upped the ante by including Riley this time, too," Edward says flatly. "He knew, Bella. He knew about her the entire time – her whole life."

"You mean he knew Alice was pregnant with his baby and never talked to her – never helped her? Never wanted to meet Riley? What kind of a fucked up person does that?" I ask as anger begins to rise inside me.

"James," he replies dryly.

"What an asshole," I say furiously, but quietly. With a shaking hand, I grab the straw of my drink and take another sip, hoping the icy mixture will cool my temper. "I'm sorry you went through that…I'm sorry you went through it alone. I would have helped you. I'm not sure how this changes things now though, Edward."

"Maybe it doesn't," he concedes, shrugging. "But I knew that you would have helped me – knew how much you love Riley, too. And I knew that James would use that against us… especially since he saw – I mean I think he could tell how I felt about you when he saw us in San Diego."

Click. Click.

It's taking more and more effort for me to push these realizations away. But I try to focus on Edward again.

"I was afraid he'd use us against each other… so I had to make him think that you and I weren't together. That's why I stopped seeing you publicly. It wasn't Jack," he says, exhaling in relief once he admits the lie. "Jack did hear you were with me in San Diego, that part was true. But he didn't order me to break things off. I lied to you… and I'm sorry."

I nod, looking down as I swallow painfully around the lump in my throat. Neither of us says anything as the waitress sets Edward's food down, along with another beer for him and another drink for me.

"The drinks are courtesy of your friends at the bar," she says. "Can I get you anything else?"

I shake my head and Edward answers no, then she disappears again.

I look back up to find Edward watching me. He picks up his fresh beer at the same time I pick up my glass, but instead of raising the bottle to his lips, the tilts the neck of it across the table… wanting me to tap my glass against it before we drink.

"Do you know how that custom originated? Clinking glasses?" I ask.

Edward's face relaxes for the first time tonight and he breaks into that crooked smile that I always adored. "No, but I bet you do," he replies, chuckling softly.

"Hundreds of years ago, it wasn't unusual for people to poison their enemies with tainted wine. So it became common practice at dinners for the host to allow the guests to pour a little of their wine into his goblet. Then he would drink first to show that the wine was free of poison," I say levelly. "But if the guest trusted the host, he would touch his goblet to the host's and they would drink at the same time."

I read that once somewhere. Then I read it wasn't true somewhere else. I don't really care if it's true or not. I just want Edward to know why I'm not tapping my glass against his beer bottle.

"Shall we toast the guys at the bar?" I ask, driving home my point that I don't trust Edward… not yet. He shouldn't trust me either. I've lied just as much as he has.

Slowly, he nods at me. "So… we're enemies?" he asks quietly.

"We're not friends, Edward. Not anymore… not right now," I state. I see him swallow, and then he lifts his beer away from me and toward the bar. I raise mine, too, and Scott and Jer raise theirs in return, then we all take a drink. I'm pretty sure Jer winks at me, too.

Once we're facing each other again, Edward licks his lips, then lowers his eyes to the food in front of him.

"Eat, Edward. I won't run away between bites or anything," I chide. I would sort of _like_ to run away – even though I know it won't solve anything. I take another sip of my drink and watch as Edward takes a bite of the chowder.

"This is good. Do you want a bite?" he asks, looking up at me.

"No, thanks, we just ate," I say. "I guess my dinner companions knew you were coming, huh?"

"Um, yeah, I guess. I think Jasper called his brother while we were at the bar last night. Right after he made my airline reservations," Edward says, looking at me briefly before he looks down at his food again.

"You were at a bar with Jas and Alice last night?" I ask, surprised.

"No, Jasper and I were at a bar after my sister hit me and kicked me out of her house. She told Jasper to take me somewhere and beat some sense into me," he chuckles. "We went to a bar, talked, and drank whiskey until everything made sense."

"In my vast experience with Jas, that's usually around one a.m.," I remark, smiling a real smile for the first time tonight.

"That sounds about right. He told me to get my sorry, yellow-bellied, lily-livered ass down here and apologize to you," he answers, laughing with me when I break into the giggles. When our laughter dies down, he shrugs. "I like him."

"Everybody likes Jasper," I confirm quickly. I've never met anyone who outright dislikes him.

"I didn't before last night," Edward argues just as quickly. "When I thought you were in love with him… when Alice said he brought the bracelet back… I hated him then. You were never in love with him?"

Embarrassed about lying to him earlier, I force myself to keep looking in his eyes as I shake my head. "No," I say quietly, stirring my drink with the straw. I lean down to take a sip, never letting my eyes slip away from Edward's.

He smiles slightly as he spears his first bite of crab cake, then moans as soon as it's in his mouth.

"I know. They're the best," I laugh, beginning to feel more at ease. "I get them every time we come here."

"So, talk to me while I finish eating," he says. "What have you been up to since you got down here?"

Still smiling, I tell him in detail about my last few days, surprised at how easily I fall back into casual conversation with him after all the talk about not being friends anymore. For a few minutes, it's as if no time has passed since September at all.

At first, I decide to leave out the parts that include Brady, but when I'm coming to the end of my story, I change my mind, concluding that I don't want to lie to him about anything again.

"And there's a guy," I say quietly, chuckling a little when I think about Brady.

"What guy?" Edward asks, his eyes downcast as he cuts another bite of crab cake. His voice has dropped an octave lower than it was a moment ago.

"His name is Brady. He's a writer. He's nice," I offer, tapping my fingernails lightly against my glass. "You would like him."

"Doubtful," he answers, still looking at his plate. He doesn't sound angry… exactly. He definitely doesn't sound happy though.

And that pisses me off. He doesn't have any right to be upset that I'm seeing someone else.

"Grow up, Edward. You're fucking engaged to Rosalie Hale," I spit, watching his face for reaction. As soon as his fork hits the plate with a loud clank… as soon as his eyes snap up to meet mine, I know the truth.

Click.

That persistent, pesky thought that kept pulling at the corner of my mind.

Click.

For weeks I've refused to let the idea fully develop.

Click.

But the instant I saw him tonight, I knew why he was here.

I hold my breath and wait for him to admit it.

"Oh, God, Bella…. I thought you realized. I'm not," he insists earnestly, leaning across the table toward me. "I'm not engaged. I've never even dated Rosalie."

I exhale the breath I was holding all at once in a noisy huff of air, and sit with my mouth slightly agape as tears fill my eyes.

"I love _you_, Bella," he says softly. "Only you."

I feel a tear slide down my left cheek as I continue looking into his deep, green eyes. I've seen his eyes guarded so many times, suppressing whatever emotion he was feeling inside. But right now, they're open… honest… hopeful.

Sniffling, I try desperately to keep from dissolving into a hysterical, sobbing mess. When Edward reaches a hand across the table toward me, I know I have to get away. I won't be able to hold it together if he touches me now.

"I can't do this right now… not here," I mutter and push my chair back, not caring that I'm attracting attention by noisily scraping the iron legs of my chair over the rough, brick surface of the courtyard.

"Bella, wait. Don't run away from me, please," Edward says, starting to stand.

"I'm sorry. I just need… a minute," I tell him, my voice soft and shaky. I have kept the rest of my tears contained for now and I walk quickly out of the courtyard.

When I get to the sidewalk, I hear footsteps behind me. I don't know whose they are…I don't care whose they are. I take off running, pausing only long enough to kick off both of my flip flops, leaving them in the middle of the sidewalk. I run the entire three blocks back to The Palms and skirt around the side of the house to the back garden, purposely avoiding Mrs. Clearwater and her prying eyes and gossipy lips.

I go to the darkest part of the yard, scrunching myself up into a ball on the bench under one end of the pergola. I hope I can hide in the shadows long enough to pull my shit together.

I take my phone from my pocket and type out a text to Jasper.

***WTF are you doing to me?**

My phone rings a few seconds after I send it.

"Jasper, what the hell?" I ask as I answer the call.

"Baby Swan, calm down. Did you listen to him at all or did you just run away as soon as you saw him?" he asks.

"I wasn't allowed to run away since you sicced the Whitlock mafia on me," I grumble.

Jasper is chuckling quietly on the other end of the line. "Look, Bella, I know you're pissed at me right now, so I'll make this quick," he says.

"You better because I'm hanging up in ten seconds," I say through clenched teeth.

"I don't quote Mama to you very often, so when I do, you'd best pay attention. Listen to him, Bella. Listen with your ears and hear with your heart," he says quietly. He does sound just like Mama. "You'll make the right decision."

"Jesus, Jasper. I just threw up in my mouth a little," I say annoyance evident in my tone. Involuntarily, my lips curl into a slight smirk when Jasper laughs at me.

"All right. Let's hang up. But I'm serious," he says gently. "I'll call you tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you, too," I mutter. "No more surprises, Jas."

"Gotcha. No more surprises from me," he says. We say goodbye and hang up.

With a sigh, I set my phone down on the bench beside me and lower my forehead onto my knees. I think Scott and Jeremy will know I'm hiding back here and I pray they'll keep my secret for a while once they all get here. I'm sure Edward's staying here with us, too.

Several things make sense to me in the course of the next twenty minutes as I reflect on the last few months.

Edward's panic at the Christmas party. His need to speak to me immediately. The way he chased me out the door.

The New Year's kiss.

His possessive reaction after Jack kissed my cheek.

His behavior in San Diego…and right after.

My birthday gift.

The pictures of me still displayed in his house.

It all fits.

He really was in love with me. He really wasn't engaged to Rosalie.

When my phone rings again, I look down at the caller ID. Emmett this time.

"Hi, Em. Not you, too," I say, not even trying to hide my exasperation.

"Bell, oh my God! I'm freaking out!" he exclaims, his voice high-pitched and anxious.

Suddenly on alert, I sit up straighter. Emmett hardly ever panics.

"What's wrong?" I ask worriedly. "Where are you?"

"I'm in the men's room at Hale Software. Fuck, Bella. My Tahoe angel…she's _here_."

"What?" I ask. Oh, God… no, it can't be.

"It's Rosalie Hale… Edward's fiancée," he says. "I screwed someone who's engaged!"

"She's not engaged," I say flatly. "They were never really engaged." Hastily, I give Emmett the abridged version of the story.

"Shit. No shit?" he asks. "Oh, fuck. She just walked into the men's room. I gotta go. I'll call you later."

Jesus. I don't know how much more information I can absorb tonight.

Suddenly, the pergola's twinkly lights come on and the outdoor speakers begin to vibrate with soft, acoustic guitar music. I think it's the Eagles.

"Bella, can I talk to you some more?" the velvet voice asks from the other side of the pergola. I can see him in my peripheral vision, but I don't turn to look at him.

"How much more is there?"

"Quite a bit," he responds.

"Can it wait? I can't process the shit you've already thrown at me," I reply, exhaling loudly.

"Yeah, sure," he answers. He leans against the post and I can see that he's holding a beer in his hand. That's Jer. Liquor them up and keep them talking. "Why do you run away from me every time I'm trying to tell you how I feel?" His voice, still smooth, is tentative…and sad.

"I don't know. I guess it's hard for me to believe that someone like you could feel that way about me. I automatically think you're lying, even though we are definitely not having sex tonight and the last time you said you loved me was right after sex, which any self-respecting woman knows means nothing with a capital N because guys will say anything at that moment and the moments leading up to it. I didn't believe you when you said it before. I'm not sure I would have left if I _did_ believe it. I probably would have, though, because it's such a fucking risk and I'm not sure if I'm a risk-taker anymore," I spew without taking a breath, only stopping because he's laughing at me. Irritated, I finally turn my head to look at him. "What, Edward?"

"Nothing, Stel. I just realized how much I missed your incessant rambling," he says, finishing his chuckle with a soft sigh. I roll my eyes at him, but my irritation dissolves in an instant.

"If you're not going to leave me alone, then I guess you can sit down," I say, still sounding grouchy even though I don't really feel it. "Over there. Not over here." I point to the cluster of chairs near the spot where he's standing.

He sits down in an Adirondack chair outside the other end of the pergola and rests his head against the back, looking up at the sky. "Jesus, I've never seen so many fucking stars," he says.

"There are spots where you can see even more, if you drive up the Keys a little way," I respond quietly, wistfully, still studying his profile. I need to look away, but it's difficult for me to pull my eyes off of him.

"Show me?" he asks, not looking at me.

"Sure. Not tonight, though. I'm wiped," I say.

"Tomorrow night?" he asks hopefully.

"Um, I'm sorry. I can't tomorrow," I answer timidly, turning my head away from him at last. "I have a dinner… thing."

"Brady?" he asks.

"Yeah. Um… I…," I begin, but Edward interrupts.

"It's okay, Bella," he says. His voice sounds normal.

"I could show you around the island a little during the day… if you want… if you're staying," I offer.

"Unless you tell me to go, I'm staying," he says. From the corner of my eye, I can see that he turns his head toward me, but I keep looking at my knees.

"I'm not telling you to go," I whisper.

We sit in silence for a few minutes and then Edward pushes up out of his chair.

"I'm beat. I'm going up to bed," he says. He walks over and bends down in front of me to set my flip flops down. I didn't even notice he had them.

"Thanks," I mumble.

"You're welcome, Stel," he answers softly. He kisses the top of my head before he stands all the way back up. "Just for the record, I meant it both times I said it. And it didn't have anything to do with sex… either time. Goodnight, Stella."

"Night… Edward," I reply. I can't say it… not now. But I want to give him something to show that I appreciate him coming all the way here to be honest with me, regardless of what happens next. So I reach out as he turns to walk away and grab his hand, my fingers clenching reflexively when a flash of heat races through me. Guess he hasn't lost his touch. Edward keeps going, but he keeps my hand in his until our fingers naturally break apart as he walks away.

When I hear the back door open again a few minutes later, I know it will be Jer.

"Come on, you big baby. I'm not mad anymore," I call when I hear his footsteps falter as he reaches the pergola.

"I just came to check on you and to tell you that Edward is way up on the third floor… all by himself. But if you want him out of here tomorrow, he's gone," Jer explains.

"It's fine, Jer. I told him he could stay. I need to hear the rest of the story," I say.

Sitting down on the bench beside me, he turns to look at me. "You okay?" he asks hesitantly, reaching one hand over to rub my back soothingly.

"Yeah," I answer quietly, then sigh. It's several minutes before Jer speaks again.

"You planning on running away every time he says he loves you?" he asks teasingly. He has that same ability that his brother has for calling me on my shit without really pissing me off.

"Maybe," I retort childishly, turning my head to look at him. "Were you eavesdropping?"

"No, we saw you run out of Kelly's. Scott chased after you while I stayed with Edward. He told me what he said right before you ran," he says matter-of-factly. "Your talent for the cut and run is well-known anyway," he reports with a smirk. I roll my eyes at him, then slide my feet into my flip flops and stand up.

"I'm going to bed," I announce. "Are you coming in?"

"Yep. I'll walk with you," he says, standing up and slinging his arm around my shoulder. "You know, Baby Swan, if someone flew thousands of miles just to see me, I'd probably stand still… least 'til I figured out how I felt about him," he advises.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I mutter. "You Whitlocks are just chock-full of advice tonight."

"You can't live with Mama for eighteen years and not have a penchant for putting your two cents in," he chuckles, pulling me closer to him. Laughing lightly, I wrap my arm around his waist as we continue walking. "Besides, I have a feeling about you two. I think mending fences with that boy might be as easy as sliding off a greased log backward."

As easy as sliding off a greased log backward? That's exactly what I'm afraid of.

* * *

Flopping onto my back, I stare at the ceiling… again. Edward's room is right above mine. It's been nice and quiet up there while I've been tossing and turning for the last three hours.

Sleep has eluded me so far tonight. I tried to read for a little while, but I couldn't concentrate on the words, so I gave up. I couldn't find anything interesting on TV. I've twiddled my thumbs, counted sheep and recited lyrics to the most annoyingly bad songs I can think of, resulting in a random Britney song now being stuck in my head.

But still I think of him. Mr. White Lightning. The arrogant semi-asshole with the charm and impeccable manners lying in his bed on the next floor up.

He loves me.

Finally, I allow myself to smile.

There's a lot to think about. He's got more to say. I have things to say. I don't know what he wants. I don't know what _I_ want.

But he loves me.

Suddenly, I want to see him, so I slip out of my bed, out of my room. I creep stealthily down the hallway and up the narrow stairs to the third floor, stepping over the creaky fifth stair that I learned to avoid the time I slept up here. There are two bedrooms on this floor; Edward is in the larger one, but it's still not a big room. The ceilings are low and angled with dormers.

I stop in front of his door and take a deep breath. Grasping the glass doorknob, I turn it slowly, and then silently push the door open and step through the doorway. In the dim light, I can see him lying on his stomach, arms spread wide, looking larger than usual in the small double bed. When I hear his deep, rhythmic breaths, I know he's really out.

For several minutes, I stand looking at him, smiling, and then step back out into the hallway and pull the door shut. Satisfied that he's here, he's sleeping peacefully, I sneak back down to my own room and get in bed.

Yawning, sleepy at last, I look up at the ceiling one more time. "Night, Ned," I whisper, then close my eyes… still smiling.

* * *

When I wake up in the morning, it's bright and sunny outside. After stretching lazily, I turn to look at the clock and am surprised that it's almost ten o'clock.

I get out of bed and pull a sweatshirt on over my tank top and sleep shorts, then walk downstairs as I pull my hair up into a ponytail.

"Hey, Jeremy," I say as I walk into the kitchen. "That smells good." I stand next to him at the counter and look at what he's cooking.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," he replies. "This isn't for you. We have other guests checking in today."

"Mmm. Doesn't change the fact that it smells good," I quip. Walking to the coffee pot, I grab a mug and pour myself a cup, sighing contentedly as I take my first sip. "Where is everybody?"

"Scott's at the office this morning, but I assume that by 'everybody' you really mean Edward. He's out by the pool trying not to look impatient," he laughs. "I thought maybe he would go all Romeo and climb in through your window earlier. He sat on the deck just looking up at it like a love-struck fool for an hour."

"He did?" I ask, whirling around to look at him, not able to conceal my smile.

"He did. I suggested that sitting nonchalantly beside the pool might make him look cooler though," Jer says, shaking his head.

'Hmm," I sigh with a chuckle. "I'm going to go get ready. Then I'll show Romeo around the island a bit. Thanks, Jer… for everything." I step toward him and kiss his cheek lightly before rushing back upstairs.

Half an hour later, I approach a relaxed-looking Edward at the pool. He's stretched out on a chaise lounge reading a newspaper. He looks up as I reach the side of his chair.

"Morning," he says, smiling up at me. His dark Raybans make it impossible for me to see his eyes, but since they also make him look even more beautiful than usual, I won't complain.

"Hey," I answer, returning the smile. "Still up for playing tourist?"

"Sure," he replies. "On one condition… we don't talk about anything serious until we eat lunch… sitting down. I'd like to spend the morning just having fun with you. Deal?"

He holds his right hand up toward me to shake on it.

"Deal," I agree, shaking his hand and inhaling unsteadily as I feel my pulse quicken. He doesn't release my hand, asking me to pull him up from his reclined position. Once he's standing, he squeezes my hand lightly before he lets go.

For the next two hours, we talk easily about trivial subjects while we walk around the island, stopping to tour Hemingway's house and Truman's little white house. By the time we wander through a few eclectic shops, we've graduated to joking around and laughing together.

I'm not surprised that I feel so comfortable with him so quickly; Edward and I had that ease of conversation from the first day we met. I _am_ surprised that I have to keep reminding myself not to reach out and touch him. Also, I can't seem to stop looking at him… like I'm afraid he'll disappear if I don't keep him in sight.

As we're wandering through an art shop on Duval Street, my stomach rumbles quietly. Great. I'm hungry. That means it time for lunch… sitting down… talking about serious things. That thought makes nervous butterflies erupt in my stomach, so I'm simultaneously famished and nauseated.

My pulse begins to race. My head is pounding. My palms are sweaty. It's fight or flight time again.

"Edward, I need some air. I'm gonna step outside and wait for you. Take your time," I say quietly. When he turns toward me, I smile tightly and turn on my heel to walk out the door.

On the sidewalk, I look both ways anxiously even though I know it's time for me to stay… time for me to fight. Will I fight _with_ him… or _for_ him? I'm not sure yet. As my stomach continues to churn, I lean back against the front window of the shop and close my eyes as I lower my sunglasses from the top of my head.

After taking several deep breaths with my hand pressed against my abdomen, I start to settle down. I stay still for a couple of minutes… until I feel him. I open my eyes to find him standing a foot in front of me looking concerned.

"You all right, Stella?" he asks quietly. "Do you want to go back to The Palms and lie down?"

Oh, my God. He's giving me an out. What should I do? Fight or fly?

Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I shake my head. "No, Edward. I'm okay now. I think we should go eat lunch… and talk," I answer. My voice quivers a little, but I manage to get all the words out.

He smiles slightly at me as he puts his sunglasses back on. "Lead the way," he says, sounding relieved.

I'm relieved, too. I almost laugh out loud as the sound of a ring announcer's voice fills my head.

"In this corner, weighing in at 190 pounds and wearing sunglasses that make him even more ridiculously handsome than usual is Edward. And in this corner, weighing in at exactly the weight shown on her driver's license is Bella… finally ready to fight."

* * *

A short ten minute walk later, we are seated at a table at Sunset Pier. Our table is at the end of the pier, overlooking the turquoise sea and shaded by a bright blue umbrella. Once we've ordered, he turns to me.

"Want me to go first?" he asks quietly.

I nod. "Yes. And I want you to take your glasses off so I can see your eyes," I say, smiling as I remove my own and set them down on the table.

"I'm not sure where to start," he remarks, setting his glasses down, too.

"Start with Rosalie," I suggest, thinking this part of the story will be the most difficult for me to hear. I'd like to get it over with while I'm still feeling brave.

Nodding, he begins with the day he asked Rosalie to help him put a stop to James' blackmail. He talks uninterrupted for fifteen minutes, pausing occasionally to look out at the glassy water before continuing. I don't say anything until he tells me how guilty they both felt last week when they had to tell Jack that the relationship and engagement were fabricated.

"How did he take the news?" I ask, frowning, worried for Jack.

Edward shrugs. "He didn't seem surprised. I think he suspected something wasn't quite right," he says.

"But you and Rosalie spent all that time… all those _nights_ together… and there was nothing between you?" I ask, then swallow loudly. "No agreement?" I'm afraid of the answers to those questions, but I need to know the truth.

"No, Bella," he insists. "We became sort-of friends over time, but never anything more. And definitely no agreement."

Exhaling quietly, I smile at him. The waitress appears setting down the baskets of shrimp and conch fritters we decided to share.

As I'm peeling the shell from my first piece of shrimp, Edward asks a question of his own.

"So, Jasper and I didn't talk about the Christmas party… the kissing. That wasn't real?" he asks softly, not looking up from the shrimp he's peeling.

"No, Edward. It wasn't real. It was a childish ploy to show you that I was doing okay without you," I answer, wiping my hands on my napkin and reaching over to grasp his forearm. I wait until he looks at me before I finish. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't real for Jasper either?" The intensity of his eyes as he stares into mine makes me want to look away, but I force myself to keep looking at him, keep hanging onto him as I answer.

"No. I told you last summer that Jas and I are very good at pretending to be a couple, remember?" I ask, finally letting go of his arm when he nods. "We talked about it – after everything happened with you – talked about taking the safe route with each other. It would be easier."

"Easier?"

"Yeah. We know each other really well… we wouldn't hurt each other," I reply. "But we both knew it wouldn't work. He always insisted the right woman was out there searching for him. And we both knew that woman wasn't me."

This time I'm the one who pauses to look out at the ocean and take a deep breath.

"I wouldn't have been happy with him either," I say, squinting at the horizon, watching the catamaran sailing in the distance.

"Why not?" His quiet question makes me turn to look at him as I answer.

"Because after experiencing the passion, the intensity, of really loving someone, I don't think I could settle for a relationship without those feelings," I answer, my voice quiet but strong.

"Are you talking about Jake?" he asks, his eyes darting away from mine. I hear him swallow as his eyes slowly slide back to meet mine again. "Or me?"

I inhale deeply and roll my suddenly-teary eyes at him. "You," I answer, sniffling.

Edward doesn't look away from me as his lips curl into my favorite crooked smile. I smile back and sniffle again, then look back down at my forgotten shrimp. Edward does the same and we eat in silence for a couple of minutes. I don't know if he needs a minute to regroup, too, or if he just realizes that I do. Either way, I'm grateful for the brief respite.

When we do speak again, we seem to tacitly agree to leave the seriousness for now. After we're finished eating, we each order a beer and collapse the umbrella over our table. For the next hour, we sit in the sun and talk about lighter subjects, laughing often.

Two beers later, I check my watch.

"What time is your dinner… thing?" he asks.

"Uh, I'm getting picked up at six," I mutter, becoming overly interested in peeling the label off my beer bottle. Willing myself to be brave again, I force my gaze up to meet his. "Edward, I didn't know you were coming. I feel weird about it now, but I don't think I can cancel."

"I understand," he replies, nodding. "I took a risk by coming here unannounced."

"I'm glad you came," I say quietly. "I've had fun today, Edward."

"I had a good time, too," he smiles. "Ready to go?"

We walk back to the The Palms leisurely while I point out a few more places I'd like to take him another day. I point out one of my favorite restaurants as we pass.

"Will you go there with me tomorrow night?" he asks, stopping to turn toward me.

"Like on a date?" I ask, stopping and facing him, too, as the sound of my pulse thunders in my ears.

"Yes, Bella, on a date," he says, smirking at me.

I can't stop the quick giggle that escapes my lips. "Yes, Edward. I'll go out with you tomorrow night," I answer, "on a date."

We look at each other for several more seconds, then begin walking again. By the time we get back to Jeremy's, my heart rate has returned to normal, but I don't think I could wipe the smile off my face if I tried.

* * *

Two hours later, I hear the doorbell as I'm still getting ready upstairs. I know that will be Brady… _and_ I know who's downstairs right now.

"Shit!" I exclaim under my breath. Quickly, I slide my feet into my shoes and grab my dangly earrings from the dresser top, putting them in as I walk out my door.

From below, I hear Brady's voice. "So what brings you down to the Keys, Edward?" I hear the low tone of Edward's voice as he answers, but he speaks too softly for me to hear the words.

When I get to the top of the stairs, I can see them both standing in the entryway; they turn to look at me when they hear my footsteps on the stairs. Brady's face breaks into a wide smile and I smile back, then let my eyes slide toward Edward. He's smiling, too, but it's the tight smile... the smile I know means he's not really happy.

"Hey, Bella," Brady says, moving to meet me at the bottom of the stairs. "You look beautiful." He leans in to kiss me, coming for my lips, so I raise a hand to his jaw and move my head just enough that his lips land on my cheek. When he pulls back, his eyes are narrowed just a bit, but he's still smiling.

"Thanks. You ready?" I ask, eager to make a getaway from the bright green eyes currently watching my every move. Brady's light green eyes are much safer to look into right now.

"Yeah. The top's off my jeep – are you okay with that?" Brady asks, studying my straight hair.

"Absolutely. I'm prepared," I laugh, pulling the hair tie off my wrist and using it to pull my hair into a low ponytail as we walk toward the door.

"Bella, can I talk to you for a second?" Edward asks.

"Edward, I -," I begin, looking from him to Brady and back.

"It's okay. I'll wait outside," Brady says. "Nice to meet you, Edward." He walks out the door and I shut it with a soft click, then turn and lean against it to face Edward.

"What is it?" I ask. I watch as he approaches me, and then inhale sharply when he puts his palms on the door on either side of my head.

"You really do look beautiful," he says, his fiery green eyes burning into mine even more intensely than earlier today.

He leans in toward me slowly, giving me time to stop him or push him away... but I don't; I've wanted to kiss him since the minute I saw him last night. When his face is just a few inches from mine, his eyes slide closed and mine do, too.

As soon as our lips meet, desire floods through me and I kiss him back eagerly as he retreats and advances several times. My hands, hanging limply at my sides, ache to feel him, but I clench them into fists instead, and then flatten them against the door behind me. We continue kissing, our lips the only parts of our bodies that touch. His lips are soft and pliant, but never stay against mine long enough to deepen the kiss.

After a few more kisses, he scoots his mouth to my left ear. "Have a nice evening, Stel. I love you," he says lowly. He presses a final kiss to the spot just in front of my ear and then steps away, smiling at me as I blink at him dazedly and try to push myself away from the door.

I clear my throat softly as I open the door.

Heart still racing, I step outside and turn around to look at him. He's standing just to the side of the doorway, his hands stuffed in the front pockets of his khaki shorts, the right side of his mouth curled up slightly.

"Night, Edward," I say quietly, then pull the door shut and practically race down the porch steps to Brady's Jeep.

* * *

When I get back to the Palms four hours later, Scott is in the front parlor, his large frame filling the overstuffed chair, his feet propped on the ottoman. He looks up from the book he's reading as I enter and smiles at me.

"Hi, Bella. You're back earlier than I thought you would be," he says, pulling his reading glasses off and sitting up. He pats a hand on the ottoman, indicating I should sit down. I walk across the room, flopping down onto the seat with a heavy sigh.

"I'm back earlier than I thought I'd be, too. I think I got dumped," I say, smirking slightly. Brady was nice tonight, but he didn't hold my hand or try to kiss me. Even when he dropped me off – at ten o'clock – he just hugged me goodbye at the door with no mention of us seeing each other again.

Scott laughs loudly and drops his heavy, hardback book to the floor with a loud thunk. Then he leans forward to grab my hands, squeezing them lightly.

"I had a feeling something like that might happen. Edward wasn't very subtle," he remarks. At my look of surprise, he tilts his head back and forth and has the dignity to look sheepish. "Jer and I were spying on Edward and Brady. As soon as Edward let him in, it was obvious that he was letting Brady know he saw you first."

"Terrific. He's like the big brother I never wanted," I chuckle.

"Uh, Bella? We saw the kiss, too. If you think that's how big brothers act, you've got some fucked up ideas about affection between siblings," he teases and we both laugh. He stands up and walks to the small bar, then pours each of us sparkling water, squeezing a slice of key lime in before walking back to me.

"Thanks," I say, accepting the glass and sipping slowly. "Well, hell. I thought Brady liked me." I know I sound cranky. I am cranky, but not really about Brady.

"I think he did."

"Until Edward got here? What does that mean? That he liked me, but not enough to stick around if there's any competition?" I ask.

Scott shrugs. "Probably," he says gently, then stops hedging when I look at him pointedly. "Yes, definitely. That's what it means. How do you feel about him?"

Raising my eyebrows and closing my eyes, I tilt my head side to side slightly. "The same," I admit before sighing loudly and opening my eyes. "So, what'd Edward say to Brady? What'd I miss?" I ask curiously, partly irritated with Edward and partly... thrilled.

"He didn't really _say_ anything... it was more the way he looked at Brady when they were talking about you. Guys recognize that look, you know? Like he was letting Brady know he'd be fighting for you, too," Scott says. "And then you cheeked Brady... when he tried to kiss you hello," Scott points out.

I let my head hang forward for a second before raising it back up and meeting Scott's eyes. "Oh, God. I totally cheeked him," I groan.

"You didn't want to kiss him in front of Edward?" Scott asks.

"Kind of. I'm not sure I wanted to kiss him at all after Edward got here," I admit.

"That's what I thought," Scott replies, sitting back in his chair and smiling smugly at me.

"Shit, Scott. What if I'm fucking up?" I lament, leaning forward to put my elbows on my knees, holding my water glass with both hands and staring at the floor.

"Bella, there are no guarantees in any relationship. But the heart wants what it wants," he says gently.

"More of Mama Whitlock's wisdom?" I scoff, not looking up.

"Emily Dickinson, actually. Although it does sound like Mama. And she is a wise woman," he laughs. He leans forward to put a finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Only you can decide if you're going to stop running and take a chance on him… assuming that Edward is what your heart wants."

I'm not ready to answer that, so I shrug and then stand up to refill our waters. I also sneak a look out the window to see if Edward's sitting on the back patio. He's not.

"Where is the interloper anyway? It's awfully quiet around here," I remark as I walk back to Scott and sit in front of him again.

Scott laughs again. "We all went to dinner. Then Jeremy took him out down on Duval – I think they're at 810."

"He took Edward to a gay bar?" I laugh.

"Yeah. And I'm pretty sure they're wasted," he says, leaning sideways to pull his cell phone from his front pocket. "Check out the last text I got from Jer." He pulls up a text that is a series of letters which make no words. I laugh with him, thinking of Edward, who rarely has more than two drinks, being out with drunk Jer and a bunch of his friends.

"Edward never gets drunk," I argue, handing back the phone.

"I think he is tonight. He was pretty depressed after you left with Brady," Scott says.

"I'll believe it when I see it," I reply with a laugh.

The topic of conversation takes a turn then and Scott and I sit up for another hour trading stories about our dysfunctional mothers.

When the front door opens, I turn immediately to see who's coming in, then sigh in disappointment when it isn't Edward and Jeremy. We both stand up and Scott goes to greet the older couple in the entryway.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hill, welcome back," he says cordially. "Come in and meet Bella."

"Oh, my. She's here?" Mrs. Hill asks as she hurries into the room. "Hello, dear. I'm Anna Hill and this is my husband, John."

After saying hello and shaking both of their hands, we all sit down. Mrs. Hill wastes no time in telling me how fond she is of Edward already. She tells me how highly he spoke of me when they had a glass of wine on the deck before everyone left for dinner.

"For goodness' sake, Bella, if you love that boy, you should put him out of his misery," she laughs. I smile, but don't answer her. "Of course, if you don't love him, I'll be leaving my husband and running after Edward myself."

We all laugh and then, thankfully, Scott comes to my rescue, asking the Hills how their evening was. Mrs. Hill spends the next half hour telling us all about their son who lives here, but doesn't have an extra bedroom; they stay here every time they come to visit. By the time she winds down, I'm sleepy.

Stifling a yawn, I check my watch, surprised that it's after midnight. When the Hills head upstairs a few minutes later, I get up, too, and carry our dirty glasses into the kitchen. I spend a few more minutes looking at the family pictures on the parlor bookshelf and hoping the front door will open again, but it doesn't.

Finally giving up on seeing Edward tonight, I hug Scott goodnight and go upstairs to get ready for bed. As I turn out the light, I open my door a crack so I'll hear Edward when he walks by on his way to the third floor, but by the time I drift off to sleep, they're still not back.

* * *

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Taptaptaptaptap.

"What the hell?" I mumble, sitting up slowly and looking around the dark room. Where is that noise coming from? I rub my eyes sleepily. While they're shut, I hear it again.

Tap. Tap.

Realizing the noise is coming from the window, I open my eyes and turn my head just in time to see several small, hard objects – maybe pebbles – hit the window at once as if someone has thrown a whole handful at the window. I throw the covers back so I can get up and as my feet hit the floor, I hear someone yelling outside.

First I frown, but then a smile spreads across my face. "Oh, no," I mumble amusedly.

It's not just someone yelling outside.

It's Ned… saying it like Brando.

"Stellllaaaa! Hey, Stellllaaaa!"

* * *

**A/N 2: Thanks for reading - please review. :)**


	23. Creaky Treads and Squeaky Beds

**A/N: Well, helllooooo. How've ya been? **

**I can't thank you enough for your patience! I know it's been a long time, but my gigantic work project is over now with no other big ones lurking on the horizon. So life is slowly getting back to normal for me. After basically not writing at all for six weeks, it's taken me a while to get back in the rhythm...**

**This is a long one, so I'll get to it:**

**Enormous thanks to windgirl810 for beta'ing. She's too sweet to say anything, but she HAD to be thinking I'd completely forgotten everything she's taught me when she got this chap. Not to worry, she fixed it up. But I tweaked until two minutes ago, so if there are any mistakes, they're mine. Seriously, windgirl, you're an incredible beta...and friend. And I'm not just buttering you up so you'll read all the other crap I'm writing. ;)**

**Michelle0526 preread several versions (mostly in pieces) of this. She knows how I feel about her - I drive her nuts by texting her about it constantly. ;) Thank you!**

**Littlecat358 also preread and wisely questioned me in a couple of the same spots Windgirl did... so I tweaked even though I wasn't convinced. But they were right. ;) LC, you know I think you're amazing and I love ya! Thanks!**

**Thanks so much for the reviews and alerts. I appreciate every single reader. :)**

* * *

For a moment, I stand frozen in place in the dim room, smiling and listening to Edward bellowing outside. Then Jeremy's voice joins in – it's a drunken, out-of-sync chorus.

"Stellllaaaa-la! Stellllaaaa-la!" they yell, accompanied by more tapping as more pebbles – or whatever they're throwing – hit the glass.

Rolling my eyes, I walk across the room toward the window, turning around when the bedroom door creaks open behind me.

"What are they doing?" Scott asks groggily, shuffling slowly into the room and wrapping a robe around himself.

"No idea," I mumble, as I reach the window and look down at them through the slightly wavy, antique panes.

"Stellllaaaa-la! Stellllaaaa-la!" Jesus, they're getting louder.

By the time I get the window unlocked and pushed open, Scott is right behind me, chuckling quietly as he looks over my shoulder. Something small and hard hits me in the chest and drops down the front of my tank top.

"Ouch!" I hiss, rubbing at the spot with my right hand for a second. Then I pull the hem of my shirt out, giggling when the UFO drops into my hand.

"They've been throwing peanuts at my window," I tell Scott, holding the tiny, salted missile up for him to see. Then I turn my head to look down at Edward and Jeremy again at the same time Jer looks up toward us. Tilting his head back causes Jer to lose his balance and stumble sideways into Edward. The force knocks both of them into the patio table and sends one iron chair crashing noisily to the deck, but the drunks manage to stay upright. "How did they walk home in this condition?" I wonder.

"Look! There she is," Jer says once he's regained his footing. He slings one arm around Edward's shoulder and points up at Scott and me with his other hand. "And my honey's with her. You don't think they've been sleeping together, do you?" he laughs.

"Stella! Come down here... I needatalktoyou," Edward slurs, tipping his head back to look at me. Smiling widely down at him, I shake my head no. "Stellllaaaa!"

I hear someone else come into the room behind us. "I think you're being paged, dear," Mrs. Hill says. "You'd best get that boy to bed before he passes out down there."

When I turn from the window to look at her, she lifts her eyebrows at me questioningly. I know she wants to know what I'm going to do about Edward… but I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet – and I wouldn't tell _her_ before I told _him_ anyway. I smile at her though and, after a few seconds, she smiles at me, too.

I head out of the room and down the stairs, not surprised when Scott follows. When we get to the terrace door, the lushes are looking confusedly up at my abandoned window, but they're silent now… probably pondering where we've gone.

"Edward," I say as I step onto the patio. Scott moves past me to get Jer.

"Stella," Edward breathes, turning to look at me, smiling like a fool. Unable to stop myself, I smile back, but I shake my head slightly as I slowly walk toward him. Next to us, Jer and Scott are hugging and talking quietly.

"Come on, Edward. Let's get you upstairs," I say, sliding an arm around his waist and trying to tug him forward, but he doesn't move.

"Stel, I'm trashed," he informs me, shifting to face me.

"I can see that," I concur, amused. Scott catches my eye and winks as he and Jer turn to go inside.

"You're beautiful," Edward says, swaying slightly as he looks down at me. "You're so fucking beautiful." Sighing, he lifts one hand and grazes my cheek with the back of his fingers, his heavy-lidded eyes roaming again and again across my face.

I swallow around the sudden emotion clogging my throat and reach up to grasp his hand. "Let's go," I plead hoarsely. With just a little more prodding, he starts walking, leaning on me.

As I guide Edward through the kitchen, we pause only long enough to grab the bottle of water Scott holds out to me. Jer is sitting in a kitchen chair, slumped over the table… facedown.

I keep my arm around Edward's waist as we begin slowly ascending the hardwood stairs, his feet landing with a noisy thud on each step. Halfway up, he suddenly stops, turns and sits down.

"Are you hungry, Stel? I have food," he announces, reaching into his pocket. When he holds his palm out toward me, there are several peanuts in it.

I laugh out loud before I can stop myself, then put one hand across my mouth as I shake my head at him. Shrugging, he puts the whole handful in his mouth.

"Edward, that's so gross," I complain, lowering my hand and fighting not to laugh at him again.

"I know," he answers with his mouth full. The impeccable mannered bastard has finally met his match… and it smells like his match is rum. "But they're so good. Jer and I stole all these peanuts from the bar. We've been drinking."

"Yeah, I got that part," I answer with a straight face as I open the bottle of water and hand it to him. After guzzling half the bottle, he gives it back. "Snack time over?"

Edward nods and takes the hand I offer to help him up. The jolt of desire I feel when his long fingers close around my hand is absurd given his inebriated state. Oh, hell. Who am I kidding? Trashed or not, he's ridiculously good-looking. And the boyish, drunk grin on his face right now makes my heart race the same way the crooked, sober smile always has.

Refocusing on the task, I help him stand and get him all the way up the first flight of stairs and almost to the top of the second before he stops and sits again.

Sighing, I lean against the wall of the narrow stairway to the third floor. "What now? You have food in the other pocket, too?" I ask tiredly.

"Nope. Gonna go to sleep," he says, leaning over against the opposite wall and closing his eyes.

"No, Edward. You can't sleep here. You'll be so much more comfortable in bed," I sigh.

"Okay," he agrees, but doesn't move. For a minute, I stand still and look at him… remembering the first day I saw him… my five-second evaluation in his office. I thought he was gorgeous then – and he is – but I see other things, too, when I look at him now. The barely-visible creases on his forehead that deepen when he teasingly raises one eyebrow at me. The faint scar left on his cheek where Alice scratched him when they were kids. The dark spot on his ear lobe from piercing it with a heated safety pin one night during college. The way his lips fall slightly open when he sleeps… oh, crap. He really is going to sleep.

"Come on, let's get you up," I coax, wrenching myself from my musing and moving to stand in front of him. I reach for his hands again, encouraged when he tightens his fingers around mine. Gripping firmly, he raises his head and blinks up at me.

"You ruined my life," he says.

"What?" I gasp, taken aback… hurt and anger springing to life inside my chest.

"You ruined my life," he laments. "I thought I had a good life. I never knew how unhappy I was until I met you. But then I met you… and I was happy… _we _were happy. Weren't we, Stella?"

"Yes," I agree, my eyes filling with tears.

"And then I fucked it up… and you walked away," he sighs, dropping his gaze down to our intertwined hands.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper… and I am. I'm sorry for the part I played in this mess and I'm sorry that I don't know how to fix it. Briefly, I let my eyes slide closed as the tears spill over, only reopening them when he tugs one hand free and lifts it to my cheek to wipe the wetness away. Reaching up, I squeeze his forearm, then take his hand again.

"I need to lie down," Edward announces, struggling to get up.

Still gripping his hands, I pull, half afraid that I'll pull too hard and we'll both fall down the stairs, but finally he stands and climbs unsteadily to the top.

Once we get into his room, he mumbles that he needs to use the bathroom… then heads for the closet. I grab his waist from behind and steer him in the right direction, turning on the bathroom light and then closing the door once he's inside. While I wait for him, I switch the bedside lamp on and fold back his bed covers, finishing just as I hear the bathroom door open. When I turn around, I see Edward sway on his feet before leaning against the doorframe.

"Remember that night I came to your apartment when you were so drunk?" he asks as I walk toward him.

"Yes, I remember," I admit wryly, hoping this will be a short trip down memory-I'd-like-to-forget lane.

"I was worried about you," he states, frowning.

"I know. You brought me soda and medicine so I would feel better," I smile, stopping in front of him. He's blinking more and more slowly… and his eyes are less and less open.

"And I sat with you... stared at you… the whole night," he says.

I inhale sharply as my heart rate accelerates once again. "You did?" I ask breathlessly. I had no idea.

"Yep. But I left before you woke up. I was pissed at you. _Pisssssssed_," he slurs.

"Why?" I ask, anxious to find out.

"Because you said you loved me, but then you wouldn't let me talk... wouldn't let me 'splain what was going on. I wanted to tell you about James... he had pictures... of you and of Riley," he says, then hiccups. My mouth gapes open in surprise – and in horror.

"And that's why you left?" I breathe, still stunned, still trying to understand.

He shakes his head and looks down at the floor. "No. He texted me – James. He knew where I was... knew I was with you. I had to go – to keep you safe. I couldn't let him hurt you, Stel," he insists, then hiccups again. "I had to let you go." He looks up at me, waiting for a response.

Taking a step back, I blink slowly, trying to figure out what to say… how to put the jumbled emotions bubbling inside my chest into words. Actions come more easily for me: hugging him for wanting to protect me; kicking him for not believing I could take care of myself; yelling at him for letting Jamie in the middle of our relationship. Silent seconds elapse as we look at each other, and then, although I'm ashamed of it, I revert to my old ways.

"Come on, Edward. Let's get you into bed," I reply, turning away and walking toward the bed without telling him how I feel about anything.

"Goddammit, Isabella!" he says angrily. Surprised at his tone, I stop, whipping around to face him. "Are you ever going to stop running away from me?"

"I'm not running away, Edward. I just think you should sit down," I offer weakly. Judging by the look in his bloodshot eyes, he knows I'm lying. I just hope he's too tired to call me on it right now.

Dropping his eyes to the floor again, he shuffles forward and sits down on the bed with a deep sigh. He sits silently – except for two more hiccups – as I pull his t-shirt off.

"How was your date?" he asks flatly when I'm finished, letting his upper body flop backward on the bed. He groans quietly as he lifts one hand to cover his eyes.

"Sucked. I got dumped," I reply, turning off the bedside lamp. The bathroom light is still on, so the room isn't completely dark. Carefully, I unbutton and unzip his shorts, then grasp the bottom hem to pull them off.

"He _dumped_ you?" he asks, letting his arm fall heavily to the bed. Edward is not cooperative as I try to remove his shorts, so I have to lean back and tug pretty hard.

"Yep, I think so." I stumble backward two steps when he unexpectedly lifts his hips and the shorts slide off more easily than I anticipated. Chuckling under my breath, I push his flip flops off and then pull on his arm until he scoots around to lie the right way in the bed.

"Motherfucker," he growls.

"I thought you'd be happy," I say, surprise evident in my tone, as I cover him up, smoothing the sheet across his shoulders.

"I'd never be happy about you being hurt, Stel," he answers testily, his eyes popping open to meet mine.

"I'm not hurt, Edward," I insist quietly, looking into his beautiful, green, not-quite-focused gaze. "I just met him Saturday."

"Hmm… shouldn't have said what I did to him… shouldn't have kissed you either," he mumbles, closing his eyes again.

I let the kissing comment slide for now; I'm more intrigued by his other statement.

"What did you say?" I ask curiously.

"He asked… what brought me… to the Keys," he mutters. That's the part I heard; what I didn't hear was Edward's answer.

"And what did you say?" I repeat, reaching my right hand up to run slowly, soothingly through his hair.

"Told him… 'I'm here for Bella'," he answers, his voice growing softer with each word as he struggles to stay awake.

Inhaling sharply, I raise my left hand to my chest and feel my heart thundering rapidly under my fingertips. As I continue sliding my right hand through his hair, I wonder if any other man could ever affect me as strongly as _this_ man. Even with all the unfinished business between us, being with him today just felt… right.

Once I'm sure he's out, I pull the small chair from the corner up next to the bed and grab the extra blanket from the closet. But before I sit down, I raise my index and middle fingers to my mouth, pressing a kiss against them and then placing them against the center of his lips.

"You ruined my life, too," I whisper with a slight smile, knowing that it's true; I can't go back to being the person I was before I met him… before I knew what _this_ feels like.

His breath hitches in his sleep – almost like he heard me. Afraid I really will wake him, I pull my hand away and then sink down in the chair to keep watch.

* * *

Soon after the room begins to get light, I get up from my chair beside the bed and stretch. Ned is still sleeping in the spot where he passed out, never having woken – or moved – during the night. After leaving a glass of water and some headache medicine on the nightstand, I go down to the kitchen and find Scott standing in front of the open refrigerator door.

"Morning," I say, heading for the coffee maker.

"Bella, thank God you're up. I told Jer I'd cook for the Hills since he's pretty hungover," he says. "But I don't know what the heck to make."

"Let me get dressed and I'll cook," I say, waving him off. "You set the table. Deal?"

"Absolutely," he agrees, smiling with relief.

Once breakfast is ready, Scott and I sit down in the dining room with the Hills to eat. Mrs. Hill keeps the conversation flowing and, even though she's nosy, I'm really starting to like her. She follows me into the kitchen when I go to get more coffee.

"How's Edward this morning?" she asks from behind me.

"I don't know, Mrs. Hill. He's not up yet," I say, pointing out the obvious as I refill the stainless steel carafe.

"I know that, dear. But I heard you come down from his room this morning," she replies smugly. When I turn to look at her, she wiggles her eyebrows at me, making me laugh.

"Damn creaky step," I mutter, making her laugh, too.

"So did you forgive him?" she asks.

"Mrs. Hill," I begin, but she talks over me.

"I realize I shouldn't be butting in – and I don't know what happened between you two to get you to this point – but I really like him… and he's head over heels for you," she says gently. "That kind of man doesn't come along every day."

"I know," I reply softly, looking down at the floor. "We both made mistakes… _big_ mistakes."

"Of course you did. You're human – I haven't met anyone perfect yet," she remarks. "What matters is if you both learned from the mistakes. Did you?"

"I think so… I'm trying not to repeat them," I say, looking back up at her. "I don't know about Edward."

"Talk to him," she urges.

"It's difficult for me – that's part of my mistake… I avoid talking about intense emotions," I confess, surprising myself with my candor.

"It's frightening to be so exposed to another person, isn't it?" she asks.

"Yes," I whisper.

She lowers her voice and steps forward to me before she speaks again. "It's always a risk, Bella. But life is so much better when you spend it with someone who loves you completely… even with the _big_ mistakes."

"You and Mr. Hill have had some, too?" I ask.

"Well, you don't survive almost forty years of marriage without some bumps along the way, I'll tell you that," she laughs. "And if I have to listen to him complain much more about his bum knee, I might go crazy. But I love him completely and I know he'll always forgive my mistakes the same way I forgive his."

We smile at each other as she reaches toward me to rub my arm.

"Anna, are you in here making a nuisance of yourself?" Mr. Hill asks from the kitchen doorway.

"Mr. Hill thinks I'm a bit of a busybody," she whispers to me with a wink. "No, John. Bella and I are just having a little talk."

"Uh oh," he teases. "You'll have to excuse her, Bella. We don't have a daughter, so she feels compelled to share all her wisdom about men with poor, unsuspecting young women."

"It's fine, Mr. Hill. My mom doesn't have a lot of wisdom about men, so I'll take all the help I can get," I laugh, winking back at Mrs. Hill. She laughs loudly and pulls me in for a quick hug before she and Mr. Hill leave for the day.

An hour later, Scott and I have finished cleaning up the kitchen, and we've decided to reward ourselves by playing in the sun all afternoon. While Scott packs us a picnic lunch, I go upstairs to check on Edward. I knock lightly on his door, but when he doesn't answer, I quietly open it, assuming he's still asleep.

I was wrong.

When I go in, Edward is walking out of the bathroom, wrapping a towel around his waist and using his right hand to hold it closed against his hip.

"Sorry!" I exclaim, closing my eyes and starting to back out of the room.

"It's okay, Stel. Nothing here you haven't seen before," he says, chuckling.

I'm not laughing though. Behind my closed eyelids, I see Edward standing at the end of his couch, a blanket pulled haphazardly around his waist, his right hand holding it closed against his hip while he looks at me in disbelief… disgust. The wounded look on his face that morning still haunts me.

The way I behaved that morning still haunts me.

"Edward, I'm so sorry," I croak, my voice thick with emotion. "Halloween night… the next morning… the things I said to hurt you. I'm so sorry."

"Bella, look at me," he replies softly. He waits until I open my eyes and reluctantly look into his before he finishes. "I forgive you. I'm sorry for what I said, too. I wanted to take it back immediately, but you were out the door before I could apologize."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"You want to shut the door and talk for a minute?" he asks. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I shut the door then lean back against it. "You staying over there or do you want to sit down? How did this chair get over here?" Using his foot, he pushes the chair back from the bed a little to make room for me to sit.

"I moved it last night," I explain as I walk toward it. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, considering," he says. "Memory's a little fuzzy though. You brought me up here?" he asks. I nod. "Was I yelling at you?"

"You didn't really yell up here," I say, shrugging one shoulder at him. "Besides, it was an accurate observation. I do tend to run away when you're talking about feelings."

"I meant from outside," he frowns.

"Oh," I answer, feeling my face redden at my misunderstanding.

"Jesus. I yelled at you up here, too?" he sighs, sitting down on the bed. "It seems like all I've done since August is screw things up with you."

I sit down in the chair facing him and try not to stare at his bare chest… at the beads of water dripping from his wet hair and clinging to his shoulders… at the way the towel rode up his thighs when he sat down. Way up.

"We both made mistakes, Edward," I respond, forcing my distracted gaze back to his face. I can tell that he's trying not to smile, so he definitely noticed me ogling his body. "As soon as emotions got involved, everything turned into a mess."

His half-smile disappears and he's shaking his head before I've finished my last sentence. "No, Bella. As soon as we stopped being honest with each other, everything turned into a mess," he replies adamantly. "It wasn't the falling in love part that fucked it all up; it was the part where we didn't tell each other how we felt… the part where I didn't tell you what was going on with James."

Immediately, I feel the tell-tale tightening in my chest and know my flight instinct is about to kick in. I sit back in the chair and put my hands in my lap, forcing myself to stay seated instead of running away. Slowly, I take a deep breath and blow it out, gathering the courage to ask my next question.

"If I had told you how I felt earlier… before Europe… would you have reacted differently to Jamie?" I ask softly.

He sighs heavily again. "I'd like to say yes, but I'm not sure. When James first contacted me, it scared the shit out of me… for Riley and Alice… and for you," he says sincerely. "I might have still broken things off with you just to get you out of James' reach."

Nodding resignedly, I look down at my hands and blink against the tears trying to pool in my eyes.

"But, Bella… I would never make that mistake again _now_. If we were together and something happened… now that I know what it's like to lose you, I'd tell you in a heartbeat," he says firmly. "That is, if you would ever let me talk." He says the last sentence teasingly, trying to lighten the mood, but he's absolutely right.

"I should have listened to you," I agree, looking back up at him. "All those times… you were trying to tell me about James?"

"Yeah. I wanted to tell you the truth and get you back. I talked myself into it and then back out of it more times than I can count." He pauses to laugh hollowly. "Being without you sucked."

"Being without you sucked, too," I admit.

Several silent seconds tick by as we smile cautiously at each other. Finally, feeling like we've gotten one more serious subject out of the way, I put my hands on the arms of the chair and push myself up.

"Well, Scott and I are going to have a picnic at the beach. Feel like coming along?" I ask, determined to move forward.

"Sure. I'll just get dressed," he replies, standing up while keeping a firm grip on the side of the towel. "I'll meet you downstairs in five."

After nodding at him, I move toward the door. I glance back over my shoulder once – just in time to see him drop the towel as he walks slowly into the bathroom, giving me a nice view of his bare ass. I watch for longer than I should, but then turn my head and continue out of the room, convinced he did that on purpose, betting I'd look at him on my way out.

With a smirk, I decide he'll definitely pay for that.

* * *

Three hours later, I wake up feeling rested after my nap in the sun. The two towels beside mine on the sand are still there, but Edward and Scott are gone. Yawning once, I push myself up and look around, immediately spotting them standing knee-deep in the ocean, talking and laughing with their backs to me. I stand up and walk toward them, wading in up to my calves.

"Scott, I believe you promised me watersports in that four-page itinerary you sent me last week," I tease, interrupting their conversation.

"Wave runners?" he asks brightly, twisting around to look at me.

"Uh huh," I agree readily. "Want to come, Edward?"

"Oh, Edward wants to come," Scott quips. I reach forward to punch his arm as they both laugh.

"I meant did he want a ride," I clarify, then punch both of them when they laugh harder. "Jesus, are you two fourteen?"

"Basically." "Pretty much." They answer at the same time.

Rolling my eyes as they continue to laugh, I turn to walk away toward the rental shack. "You want your own, Edward, or are you riding with one of us?" I call over my shoulder.

"I'll ride with you, Bella," he answers.

"Word to the wise, Edward: Get your own. She likes to go fast… she'll toss you in the ocean and not look back," Scott advises.

Edward laughs. "Nah. I don't think she'll do that to me."

Now I laugh, too, although they can't hear me. Edward really shouldn't have said that.

* * *

"Jesus, Stel," Edward says, bobbing in the water as I circle around to get him… again. "How many times are you gonna throw me off?"

When I pull up near him, I cut the engine, letting the wave runner drift slightly past him, and then swivel around on the seat to face him. "I don't know," I answer, then pretend to consider it. "That's four. Should we go for five?"

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asks, squinting up at me in such a way that I can't tell if he's smiling or not… but he sounds amused.

"Little bit. Gonna add it to the list of things people don't like about me? Stubborn, sarcastic, hard to please, and kind of a bitch," I laugh, watching as he puts one foot on the underwater step to boost himself back onboard.

Feeling a little guilty, I offer a hand to help him up – the first time I've been that nice. Before I realize his intention, he grasps my hand and pulls hard, sending me flying through the air and splashing into the water.

"Edward," I sputter warningly, trying to push the wet hair out of my eyes. Struggling against the lifejacket, I tip myself backward to get my head underwater so I can smooth it back.

"Sorry, baby. Semi-asshole, remember?" he teases, coughing and laughing when I splash seawater in his face.

"I remember," I remark dryly as I swim back toward the wave runner. "I am not climbing up first."

"Good. Then I'll drive this time."

"Edward Anthony Cullen, you will not throw me off," I threaten.

"Or what?" he teases as he climbs back onto the seat. He turns around and offers me a hand as I climb up.

"Don't let go," I order when our wet hands start to slide apart.

"Christ, you're bossy," he laughs. "I won't let go if you don't let go."

Keeping my eyes on his, I let his words sink in. His gaze is burning into mine, and I wonder if his words are a challenge… or a promise… or both.

It's not until I'm seated behind him, hanging on to his lifejacket that I make a promise of my own. "I'm not letting go."

He flashes a smile at me over his shoulder as he starts the wave runner and slowly accelerates. I look back when I hear someone approaching from behind, then wave to Scott as he passes by on our right side. "Didn't take him long to get between your legs," he calls.

"Scott!" I gasp, my eyes widened, embarrassed by what he said even though I know he's kidding.

Scott turns and skirts around us on the other side. "Bella, the bed in your room is pretty squeaky. Use Edward's," he continues teasing as he cruises by again.

Feeling my face redden, I flip him off. "He's been spending too much time with Jas and Joey. He's lost all tact," I remark. "Edward, it's time you learned how to spray someone with a wave runner."

Edward turns us around and we race toward the spot where Scott is stopped, waiting for us. Following my instructions, Edward accelerates and cranks the handlebars hard as he releases the throttle, shooting a hefty stream of ocean water in Scott's face. Edward and I are both laughing as we turn around and coast toward Scott.

"That was perfect!" I exclaim, then stand up to taunt Scott, watching as he wipes the water from his eyes. "Don't have much to say now, huh, big –." I stop talking suddenly when a wave hits us from behind, causing me to lose my balance and lurch forward.

"Whoa! You okay, baby?" Edward asks as I brace both hands on his shoulders and crash into him. He reaches both hands toward me, grasping the backside of each thigh to steady me. I gasp again, but not in horror this time. Oh, God. His hands feel so good on me.

I'm not ready for this though. We have to finish talking before I can make a decision about what I want… before Edward and I can see if our ideas about where we go from here are the same.

"Um, yeah," I say, backing up a step so that his hands fall away. I sit back down on the still-rocking wave runner and consciously scoot my hips away from his. "I think it's time to take this back to the beach. And then I think we should finish talking. I don't want all this… stuff… hanging between us anymore."

"You mean when we go on our date tonight?" he asks, turning to look at me and smiling.

"Yes, Edward. That's what I mean," I laugh.

"Sounds good to me," he replies, then presses the throttle almost all the way down, speeding us back toward the beach.

* * *

After we return the wave runners and Scott heads home to check on Jer, Edward and I sit down on opposite sides of the picnic table where we ate lunch a couple of hours ago.

"So… my turn, I guess?" I offer. Edward agrees, so I tell him the whole truth, beginning with the way I felt in San Diego and my realization soon after. I talk about how bitter I was during the month we had to hide out, and the day that I decided I had to be honest about my feelings for him and let him go.

He doesn't comment until I tell him about the drinking.

"Jesus, Bella. What the hell were you thinking? Where were your friends?" he demands.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I take a deep breath to calm the flare of irritation I feel at his questioning. "It was my fault… no one else's," I insist, looking pointedly at him. "And I stopped. I'm stronger now than I used to be."

He nods, still looking mad, but he's smart enough not to say anything else. I skip over the Hale Christmas party – not wanting to relive _that_ night – and fast forward to moving in with Jas and finding out about Alice and Jasper's relationship… but I leave out how I discovered them. No brother wants to hear those kinds of details.

Suddenly, I remember about Emmett and Rosalie, too, so I explain the Tahoe hook up and Emmett's phone call to me two nights ago.

"So what happened after she found him in the men's room?" Edward asks, chuckling.

"Don't know. I left him a voicemail yesterday, but he never called," I answer, shrugging. "Hopefully nothing. I don't like her."

When Edward laughs out loud, I scowl at him.

"Edward, she was a total bitch to me in New York and you know it. Then… at the Christmas party," I begin, but he holds a hand up to interrupt me.

"Stella, I told you why she acted that way in New York. And at the party… she was just trying to stop me from screwing up the plan to get James," he clarifies. When I roll my eyes, he continues, "She actually felt bad after the Christmas party. She knows… how I feel about you."

"Oh," I remark, thawing slightly, but we're getting off track. I steer the conversation to the weeks since I moved in with Jas, finally ending with my arrival in Key West. "I think you know everything from there," I finish.

He nods, then remarks wryly, "Last night is pretty hazy, but otherwise, yeah."

"How much do you remember?" I grin.

"I remember dinner… and dark rum," he replies, wrinkling his nose slightly. "I have a vague recollection of someone grabbing my ass at the bar, but that's about it. And then you… I remember seeing you in the window."

I smile at him and sigh before leading the conversation in a new direction. "Tell me about Jamie. What did he do?"

"Besides blackmailing me and trying to drive a wedge between Jack and Rosalie, he also tried to sabotage the company. Remember I told you last summer about the new operating system we're launching this summer? James copied it and tried to sell it to another software company," he says.

"How could he do that to Jack?" I ask incredulously. "That's out-and-out stealing."

"Technically, the term is 'theft of trade secrets'," Edward answers. "It happens all the time. Luckily, the company James tried to sell it to is owned by someone my dad knows. He called my dad… and they called me. Then the cops got James – FBI actually. It was pretty cool."

He looks excited – like a little kid – and I roll my eyes before I continue. "What about Jack? Is he okay?"

"He was shocked… hurt. He's always treated James like a son," Edward answers, sobering instantly. "But he'll bounce back. Emmett and Tyler did a great job minimizing the negative publicity. Jack wanted you though… Emmett said no."

"I would have come, Edward, if I'd been in Seattle," I say earnestly. "I might have kicked your ass in your office though."

"I would've stood still and let you," he says quietly.

"Don't do that," I insist. "You aren't the only one who screwed up."

He shrugs and smiles half-heartedly at me. I smile back, then look down at the table, tracing the grain of the wood idly with my finger.

"So," I say, pausing to take a deep breath and then looking back up, "I guess we've talked about everything now. Except us."

"Yeah," he answers. "Us."

"I don't know what you want," I say quietly, forcing myself to look into his eyes again even though I'm scared to death to have this conversation.

"I want you… I want a relationship with you," he states, his voice quiet but strong. "But more than anything, I want you to want that, too."

I nod slowly, taking deep breaths.

"I'm not asking you to tell me right now," Edward continues, probably reading the panic in my eyes. "But do you think we – eventually – could start over?" he asks, hesitantly.

Immediately, I shake my head no, not realizing what it looks like until Edward's face falls.

"Let me explain," I reply quickly. "I don't want to start over. Last summer, those months we spent together… I don't want to forget them. It was the best time of my life." I smile at him.

"Mine, too," he answers, smiling back. Then he reaches across the table with one hand and I put my hand in his.

"I think we have to take all of it with us… if we decide to move forward," I say, then roll my lips together and inhale slowly. "I'm just… really scared."

"What are you scared of, baby?" he asks gently, squeezing my hand.

"Everything," I blurt out passionately. "I'm scared to try with you; scared not to try with you. I'm afraid to let myself feel that way again… and I'm terrified that I'll _never_ feel that way again."

He nods at me and blows out a breath. "I'm scared, too, Stel. But the way I feel about you is stronger than the fear… for me," he says. "You're the only one who knows if it's the same for you… if you're ready to stop running away from me."

"I know," I whisper. And I think I'm ready… but I need to be sure before I tell him..

"Will you still go to dinner with me?" he asks. I nod. "Good. And as for the rest of this? I won't pressure you about it, okay? The next move is yours."

After I agree, we get up and gather our things, then walk back to The Palms.

All evening, Edward is true to his word; he's gentlemanly, sweet, funny. But he never mentions the "L" word or says anything about our relationship. As we walk back to the B & B after dinner, I point out the porch railing on one of the houses we pass.

"See that, Edward? Look at the shapes made by the carvings on the balusters," I say, stopping in front of the house.

"They look like… little bottles?" he asks, frowning slightly as he studies them.

"Exactly!" I answer, clutching his arm. "During Prohibition, that's how people knew this was a bootlegger's house. So you and Jer could have come here to get plowed on illegal rum ninety years ago."

"Please don't say the word 'rum'," he groans, turning his head to look at me. When I roll my eyes, Edward laughs. "The shit you know never fails to surprise me, Stella," he says as we start walking again.

"I like to keep you on your toes. You just don't know what I'll do next," I reply lightly, trailing my hand down his arm. When my hand reaches his, I hook our pinky fingers together the way he used to.

He doesn't turn to look at me this time, but he tightens his finger around mine… and when I look over at him, he's smiling.

* * *

Since I didn't sleep much last night while I was watching Edward, I go up to bed early, leaving Edward and the Hills playing cards in the parlor. I fall asleep quickly, but wake up in a panic at one o'clock. For an hour, I lie wide-eyed, worrying over one scenario and then another. Together, not together. It works out, it doesn't work out. The hypothetical situations are all different, but my feelings are the same each time.

No matter what happens next… no matter what happened before… I love him. And I have to tell him… no, I'm _ready_ to tell him.

Smiling, I toss the covers off and creep out of my room and up the stairs to the third floor slowly, skipping the noisy step this time. Like two nights ago, I grasp the doorknob and twist it silently, then push the door open, but the bed is empty. The sheets are pulled back, disheveled as if someone was tossing and turning… someone who's now gone. I walk into the room, peek into the dark bathroom – no Edward. Moving toward the bed, I put my hand down on the sheets – they're still warm. He hasn't been gone long.

Eager to find him, I go back down the stairs, quicker this time, wincing as my bare feet squeak on the hardwood treads in my haste. When I reach the main floor, I check the living room and the parlor and find them both empty. Finally, I check the kitchen – it's dark and empty, too… but the back door is unlocked.

When I get outside, I see Edward immediately in the dim underwater light of the pool. He's swimming laps, cutting through the water quickly. I watch him swim away from me as I reach the pool steps. Nervous but excited, I step down onto the first and then the second stair, so the heated water comes up to my knees.

Then I wait.

I see him do a flip-turn at the far wall and kick back toward me. I know the instant he sees me – my feet or my shadow – because he stands up abruptly in the water before he reaches the steps.

"Stel?" he asks, shaking his head twice to flip his wet hair out of his face.

"I couldn't sleep," I explain, my hands pulling at the bottom hem of my tank top. But I force my eyes to stay locked on his.

"I couldn't either," he responds, resting his hands on his hips, his chest heaving.

Nodding, I step down once more, the water rising to mid-thigh now, just below the hem of my shorts. "I know," I say, smiling slightly. "I went up to your room… to see you… to tell you…" My voice trails off as I have a sudden flashback of the last time I said this to him – and fled.

"To tell me what, Stella?" he asks anxiously.

Keeping my eyes on his, I wait for the panic to rise… expecting to have the urge to fly… but it doesn't come. Instead, I feel calm… confident that this is the right decision for me. When my face breaks into a wider smile, he steps forward, but doesn't reach out to me.

"I don't want to run away from you," I declare. "I love you… Ned."

He grins crookedly at me as he takes another step forward. "Say it again," he pleads.

"I love you."

"The other part," he prompts.

"Ned," I laugh, reaching for his shoulders and jumping into his arms. He's laughing, too, as he wraps his arms around me. "Ned, Ned, Ned."

"Now I believe it," he murmurs into my neck, then presses his lips to my skin.

"Kiss me, Ned," I say, sliding one hand up into his hair.

Lifting his head from my neck, his eyes meet mine. He studies me intently, moving one of his hands up to cup my jaw, brushing his thumb slowly back and forth across my cheek. My heart is racing… my breaths come quickly… and still he stands, just staring at me.

"Oh, for the love of Pete, Edward! When did you get so slow?" I ask, smiling and leaning toward him. He chuckles lightly as I press my lips gently to his, then groans quietly when I lick along his bottom lip.

Gripping my jaw more tightly, he finally kisses me the way I want him to, his mouth moving urgently with mine. For the next few minutes, we relearn each other – he nips at my lips the way he used to, I bury both hands in his wet hair as I slide my tongue against his.

He's slowly backing up into deeper water, and finally sinks down, submerging us up to our chests. As he slides one hand down to my lower back, I wrap my legs around his waist, then pull my mouth away from his and gasp when he rocks his hips against mine.

"Ned," I say breathlessly as his lips skim down my neck and across my collar bone.

"Yeah, baby?" His hot breath against my cool skin sends a shiver up my spine.

"I'm not… I can't… I'm not sleeping with you tonight," I announce. That gets his attention. He lifts his head immediately to look at me. I let my hands slide out of his hair and down to his shoulders.

"Okay," he says slowly, his green gaze searching my face.

"I want to, but I don't… you know?" I ask.

"No, I don't understand that at all," he chuckles happily, wrapping me in his arms more securely.

"I want to take it a little slower than we did last time… you know, when we slept together the day we met," I explain.

"I remember, Stel," he says, laughing again. "I want you… but if you want to wait, we'll wait."

"It's probably silly," I say. "I just… kind of want time… and I kind of want to be back in Seattle… in your bed."

"Okay," he agrees, kissing me gently. "That actually sounds like a pretty good plan."

He stands up in the water, still kissing me, but definitely trying to cool both of us off. It works; within a minute I'm starting to shiver in the night air and Edward's skin is growing cold under my hands.

"Baby, you're shivering," he whispers, moving his lips to my ear.

"I know," I say, trying but failing to keep my teeth from chattering. "We should probably go in."

He carries me to the steps and we both get out, sharing his towel since I didn't bring one outside. We hold hands on the way upstairs and I expect Edward to ask to stay with me, but when I open the door to my room and start to go in, he stays in the hall, letting go of me.

"Get some sleep, Stel," he whispers, smiling at me when I turn around to face him. He leans down to kiss me softly, silently. We both whisper goodnight and then Edward continues up to his room.

Slightly disappointed, but still happy, I shut my door. In the bathroom, I strip out of my wet clothes, redressing quickly in dry pajamas. I squeeze the excess water out of the bottom of my hair as I study my reflection in the mirror. My face is flushed; my eyes are shining… and my lips are blue.

Still shivering, I get in bed and cover up, trying to get warm. After a couple of minutes of staring at the ceiling, I stop shaking, but I'm wide awake. When my phone vibrates on the nightstand, I smile and reach over to pick it up. Guess Ned's still up, too.

***I still can't sleep.**

I type my reply immediately.

***Me either.**

***Then get your spectacular ass up here.**

***Nope. Get your spectacular ass down here.**

It's not a full minute later when my door opens and Edward peeks into my room.

"Hi, Stel," he whispers, smirking at me.

I smirk back at him. "Don't look so smug, Ned," I chide. "We are both keeping our clothes on. Oh, my God, you do have clothes on, don't you?"

He laughs quietly as he pushes the door open so I can see his basketball shorts and t-shirt.

"All right. Come in," I say, watching him as he shuts the door and then walks toward the bed.

As our eyes meet, I wonder if he realizes that I'm on the side of the bed where I always slept when we were together. I flip up the covers on his side, allowing him to slide in. We lie on our sides, close together – facing each other but not touching for a few seconds. Then Edward slides his feet toward mine.

"Jesus, your feet are freezing," he breathes, jerking away.

"I know," I say, smiling back at him and scooting my feet – and the rest of myself – closer to him. "Why do you think I let you in here? Body heat."

"Nah. I know it's because you couldn't stay away," he says, wrapping his arms around me. "You love me."

We spend a few minutes kissing, and then I snuggle into my favorite spot – against his chest.

"Stel?" he whispers just as I'm drifting off.

"Hmm?"

"I can't sleep on your side of the bed either," he admits.

I scoot up in the bed so I can kiss him once more. "That's so sweet," I say against his lips. "I'm still not sleeping with you tonight though. Night, Ned."

He chuckles as I move back down against his chest.

"Night, Stella."

* * *

Friday, Edward and I spend the entire day together wandering around the island. We shop for souvenirs and each choose one for Riley. We stroll up and down streets and stop for a beer at a local dive bar.

Edward reminds me that I still haven't taken him to see the stars, so we walk to the docks and board a sunset cruise. For almost three hours, we cruise around with other tourists, drinking champagne and talking as the stars slowly appear overhead.

When we get back to The Palms, Jer and Scott are on the patio with several new guests who have arrived for the weekend. Edward sits down with Scott – and a glass of wine – but I'm tired again. I tell everyone goodnight and go up to my room to shower and sleep.

But I'm not surprised when I hear a tap on my door and then his voice an hour later.

"Stella? Can I come in?" he whispers.

"Uh huh," I grunt without opening my eyes.

When he slides into the bed, I roll over, throwing one arm and one leg across him. He chuckles quietly and I smile in response as he shifts me a little so he can put his arms around me.

"Love you," I mumble.

"I love you, too, Stel," he murmurs, placing one finger under my chin to tip my head back and then kissing me softly twice. Sighing loudly, I slide my hand up inside his t-shirt to rest over his heart and go right back to sleep.

* * *

When I wake up Saturday morning, Edward's side of the bed is empty. For a moment, I wonder where he went, but since he's an early riser and I'm not, I don't let it bother me. Rolling over onto my stomach, I reach for his pillow and hug it to my chest as I drift off again.

"Stel. Stel. Stella," he says quietly.

"Huh?" I grunt.

"Roll over, baby. I brought you breakfast," he says.

"Oh, no. You cooked?" I ask dramatically, then squeal when he pulls the covers from me and lightly smacks my ass.

I feel him lean down over me, his chest resting on my back. "You're ruining my big, romantic gesture, Stel," he teases, breathing into my ear. He uses the tip of his tongue to trace the shell of my ear.

Moaning quietly, I roll over, impatient to get my lips on his. We kiss hungrily for a moment, before Edward pulls away and stands up. "Your breakfast is gonna get cold," he says, walking over to the dresser to pick up the tray.

Sighing, I sit up and lean back against the headboard, then smile at him as he comes toward me. When he sets the tray across my lap, he leans down to kiss me again.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he says against my lips.

"Aw," I reply. "Happy Valentine's Day, Ned."

He walks around the bed to sit down beside me. We share the stuffed French toast, fruit and coffee, then Edward moves the tray and turns around to face me.

"So, I have something for you," he says. "I'm afraid you're not going to like it. You told me once you didn't want any hearts and flowers crap." He laughs, but he looks nervous.

"Well, you told me you didn't do relationships, remember? No drama," I mock, imitating his deep voice. "I think we've both had a change of heart since then, Ned."

He smiles, but swallows loudly as he hands me a small, wrapped box. "I've had this since your birthday… I hoped then that I could give it to you soon, but then everything went to hell."

I carefully unwrap the box and open it. It's a heart-shaped platinum charm – for the bracelet I don't have anymore. One word is engraved on it: Yours.

"It's cheesy, I know," he explains quickly. "But it's true."

"Edward, I love it," I say looking at it and then reaching for him. I hook an arm around his neck and pull him closer to me so I can kiss him. "I really love it. But I don't have the bracelet."

He pulls away from me slightly and lifts one hand up in front of my face, dangling my bracelet in front of me.

"My bracelet!" I exclaim excitedly. Chuckling, he lets me take it and attach the new charm. "Will you put it back on me?" I ask, looking up at him.

He nods, smiling at me. "Sure."

"Thank you, Ned," I whisper, leaning forward to kiss him again after he hooks it around my left wrist. "I have something for you, too. It's not this nice though."

"Bella, there's nothing you could buy me that would mean more to me than the last few days have," he says. "This… being here with you… it's all I wanted."

"Still…," I reply, twisting around to reach the nightstand. Opening the drawer, I take out the tissue wrapped book and hand it to him.

"_In Our Time_. Hemingway," he reads looking down at the old, hardback book he unwrapped.

Afraid he doesn't like it, I rush to explain. "I thought… since we just went to his house… and he loved Key West and we're here… and I feel like it is our time now," I say.

"I love it," he says, leaning forward to kiss me.

"I'm glad," I say, reaching one hand up to cup the side of his face. "But, you know, the book is a collection of short stories… and they're mostly sad… or tragic. I don't mean that part's about us."

He laughs as he kisses me again. "Got it. Nothing sad or tragic for us," he says.

"I'm so happy, Ned," I say, scooting close to hug him tightly. "And I really love this bracelet. I wanted it back so badly. It's us." I sigh contentedly and press my lips to the side of his neck.

"It's us," he agrees. "Now let's go do something fun on our last day."

* * *

Saturday night, Jer and Scott talk us into going to 810 with them for a special Valentine's Day show while Mrs. Clearwater watches the inn. Even though I'm tired from spending all day in the sun, I want to go since it's our last night here – and our last night with Jer and Scott.

We sit at a table for four and order drinks. When the waiter brings them, Scott and Jer are engrossed in conversation with a friend who stopped by our table. Edward picks up his beer and starts to take a drink… until I put a hand on his forearm to stop him.

"Hang on, Ned," I say, turning in my chair to face him. "I want you to know how much it means to me that you came down here. It's been a great week. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Stel," he says, leaning over to peck my lips.

He quirks one eyebrow at me when I pick up my drink and hold it out toward him. "To our friendship… and the other stuff," I say, watching as his lips curl into a smile.

"To our friendship… and the other stuff," he echoes, tapping his bottle against mine. We drink at the same time, keeping our eyes on each other. When we both set our bottles down, he reaches his hand to the back of my head, drawing me close. "Come here," he says, putting his lips on mine again. We kiss several times, then finally pull apart when the show begins.

After the show, 810 turns into a dance club with blaring music and flashing colored lights. We get up and move to stand near the bar with a few of Jer and Scott's friends. They must have been here Wednesday night, too, because they know Edward. They spend several minutes talking to – and about – him, entertaining me and embarrassing him.

Edward asks me to dance a few times, probably to discourage his admirers, who have been lamenting the fact that he's straight. Even though the songs we dance to aren't slow, he keeps his hands on me… and kisses me often.

"I know what you're up to," I say, pulling him close to yell in his ear.

"What?" he mouths, shrugging his shoulders at me and trying to look innocent.

"You're using me to throw off all the boys chasing you," I yell, leaning close again.

"I'm not," he yells, shaking his head at me. When I look pointedly at him, he laughs and holds his thumb and index finger up, leaving about an inch between them. "A little. But I love you and I'm having fun."

Rolling my eyes, I wonder how long the "I love you" excuse is going to work with me… I can hear it now… "I don't like what you're wearing, but I love you"; "I don't want to go see that crappy movie, but I love you"; "I don't want that for dinner, but I love you". Yep… I'm pretty sure it's going to work every time.

"I'm having fun, too," I say, smiling and wrapping my arms around his neck when he leans down to kiss me. When a slow song begins to play a few seconds later, I tighten my grip on Edward and press myself against his chest… for five whole seconds.

"Can I cut in?" Jer asks.

"Depends," I retort. "Do you want to dance with me or Edward?"

"You, smartass. Scott would kick my ass if I slow danced with another guy here," he laughs. "I get a little handsy when I've had this much to drink."

Edward jokingly pulls me closer to protect me – or himself – then chuckles and hands me off to Jeremy.

"Am I forgiven for agreeing to Jasper's plan to surprise you?" he asks after a minute, grinning down at me.

"Yes," I say grudgingly. "You're like a brother to me. You know I can't stay mad at you… or Scott… or anyone else in your family. And you were right anyway."

"I know," he says conceitedly, laughing when I glare at him.

"So, Baby Swan, you seem happy," he drawls, looking down at me.

"I am, Jer," I say, smiling up at him. "I don't know how I could be happier."

"You could bang your boyfriend," he suggests, smiling back. "Sex seems to increase the level of bliss between two people who love each other."

After teasingly narrowing my eyes at Jer, I look around for Edward. He's standing with Scott and several other guys over by the bar. I see him gesture with the beer bottle in his hand and they all laugh.

"We're… waiting," I say absently, still watching Edward – and feeling my pulse quicken.

"For what?" Jer asks incredulously.

And suddenly, I don't know. I don't know what the hell I'm waiting for. Edward has turned now so his back is to me and I study the width of his shoulders, the line of his back, the hand hanging casually out of his back pocket. My feet stop moving and I hear Jer laughing quietly.

"Go get him, Baby Swan," he whispers, dropping his hands from around my waist. I turn my head to kiss Jer's cheek and then walk off the dance floor. Scott sees me approaching and must tell Edward, because he turns to look at me, smiling my favorite crooked, crinkled eyes smile.

When I get close enough, I grab his beer with one of my hands and his hand with my other then pull him along behind me, not speaking to anyone and never slowing down.

"Stel, what's wrong?" he says, leaning down from behind to speak loudly in my ear, competing with the volume of the music.

"Nothing," I answer as I continue walking, setting the half-empty beer on the bar but never breaking my stride.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"Your room," I answer.

"Why?"

"Because the bed in my room is too squeaky. Everyone will hear us."

That statement puts a halt to our progress as Edward stops dead in his tracks.

"Stella," he begins warily as I turn around to face him.

"Although honestly everyone might hear us anyway because I've never been good at keeping quiet with you and, Jesus, if you do that one thing… you know, with your tongue, I'm pretty sure Mr. Hill will hear me even without his hearing aid. Scott and Jer will be listening because they're so freaking nosy, and they'll definitely give us shit about it, but I love you and I want you… and why the hell are you laughing?" I ask.

"Because you're so fucking perfect," he says, pulling me close and holding me against his chest. He leans down to kiss me, stopping right before his lips touch mine and pulling back. "You do have trivia for me, right?"

"Of course, baby," I answer, sliding my hands around his waist and then down to his ass. "Now get your spectacular ass moving and let's get horizontal… or vertical… or some of each. I don't freaking care."

"There's that bossy woman I love," he laughs, then kisses me. "Christ, how many blocks do we have to walk to get back?"

I giggle against his lips. "Six."

"I'll never make it," he groans.

I pull away from him and smile. "Come on, Ned. I'll make it worth your while."

It takes us quite a while to get back to the inn because we stop to make out several times in the shadowy streets. By the time we go through the front door and hurry past the parlor doorway, I've got Edward's shirt halfway unbuttoned and I'm desperate to really get my hands on him. When I'm on the second stair, I hear Mrs. Clearwater step into the foyer behind us and clear her throat.

"Hi, Mrs. Clearwater," I say, turning around to face her. "This is my… boyfriend, Edward Cullen. Edward, this is Mrs. Clearwater." I stifle the giggle at introducing Edward as my boyfriend for the first time, but there's nothing I can do about the giant-ass smile on my face.

"Mrs. Clearwater, it's a pleasure to meet you," Edward says smoothly. He steps forward to shake hands with her. I scoot down to the first stair and hook my right arm through his left arm at the same time that Mrs. Clearwater tries to pull him forward with the hand she hasn't let go of yet.

"It's wonderful to meet you, too. Why don't you come in and chat? No one's returned yet tonight except the Hills and they went to sleep hours ago. I've been quite lonely," she says sweetly, looking up at him. Oh, Edward. Don't be fooled. She's a gossipy cougar. When she tries to pull him forward again, I yank on his left arm.

"Don't fall for it. She's not nice," I whisper, leaning forward to put my mouth near his left ear. "And she definitely won't take her clothes off in the next thirty seconds. I will."

He doesn't acknowledge what I've said, but he extricates his right hand from her grip.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Clearwater. I'd be happy to talk another time, but Bella needs my help with something upstairs," he says, his velvet voice apologetic.

Smirking slightly at mean ol' Mrs. Clearwater, I move up to the second stair, not letting go of Edward until he's turned around to follow me.

"Tick tock, baby," he says lowly as he passes me, then holds one hand back for me to take. He pulls me up the stairs a little faster than I'm comfortable walking, our rapid footsteps thumping noisily on the hardwood. Edward speeds up again when we reach the narrow stairway to the third floor.

"You're going too fast," I complain, whispering loudly. "Skip that stair!"

"Why?" he asks as he steps on the creaky tread. "Oh. Well, the Hills are the only ones here. And Mrs. Hill likes me. She won't be mad if we wake her."

"Arrogant semi-asshole," I mutter, skipping the noisy stair and then continuing to run up the flight to keep up with him.

"Now you're just trying to turn me on," he says when I reach the top, grabbing me around the waist and pressing me up against the wall. Burying my hands in his hair, I pull until he bends down to kiss me.

When I slide my hands down to his chest to finish unbuttoning his shirt, he takes a step back and reaches for my hands. "It's been thirty seconds, Stel. One of us is overdressed."

Smiling up at him, I reply, "Hmm. Not for long. Follow me, Ned." Pushing off the wall behind me, I let go of one of his hands and tug him down the hall to his room. As soon as we're inside, I shut and lock the door, then whip my shirt off without turning around.

I feel his lips on my shoulder as I reach for the back closure of my bra.

"I'll get it," he says against my skin. He quickly unhooks it and I pull it off, dropping it to the floor at the same time his arms come around me. I let my head fall back against his chest when he cups my breasts and plucks gently at my nipples.

"Oh, God… Edward," I whisper hoarsely, letting him continue caressing me for a minute before I turn around. Quickly, I finish unbuttoning his shirt and push it from his shoulders, then lean forward to kiss a path across his chest. He inhales sharply as I skim my fingernails down his abs to the waistband of his jeans and pull the top button free.

"Baby," he groans, sliding his hands up to cup my face and leaning down to kiss me. As our lips and tongues meet and pull apart several times, I unzip his jeans and start to push them down. He steps backward, letting go of me, to kick off his shoes and pants. When he moves forward again, he wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up, then turns to walk toward the small, double bed.

While he's walking, I kiss up his neck to his ear. "I love you," I whisper, wrapping my arms tightly around his shoulders.

He doesn't answer me until he sets me down on the bed. "I love you, too, Stella," he says, leaning in to kiss me sweetly. When I reach forward to push his boxers down a moment later, he helps, swiftly dropping them to the floor. I lie back, letting Edward pull my jeans and underwear off.

"Ned… please," I say, swinging my legs up to turn the right way in the bed. I pull at the quilt trying to get to the sheets, then giggle when Edward tries to help, ripping all the covers off the bed in his haste.

Finally, I lie back on the pillows and reach for him, sighing contentedly when he immediately settles between my legs. With our skin pressed together, we both seem to relax a little, still kissing passionately, but not as feverishly as a few minutes ago. It's just fine with me – I want to take my time with him tonight.

Wrapping my arms around his back, I scratch up and down lightly several times, smiling against his lips when he moans quietly and arches into my touch. He pulls his mouth away from mine to kiss down my neck to my chest, leaving his lips open as he moves from side to side.

By the time he finally puts his open mouth over my breast, I'm whimpering and clutching at his arms. He sucks gently and then with more pressure before using his tongue to trace around my nipple several times. When he switches to the left side, I gasp knowing that he remembers that this side of my body is more sensitive.

"Ned, I can't… oh, God," I whisper after a minute, unable to stop my hips from thrusting up against his.

"You okay, baby?" he murmurs, lifting his head to look at me. When I nod, he smiles at me and lowers his head to my chest again, kissing down between my breasts and then lower. "Where's my trivia?" he asks.

"Um… uh…," I say, unable to think of anything appropriate. Edward chuckles against my skin and runs his tongue around my belly button. "Do you know what the strongest muscle in the human body is?"

He raises his head and meets my gaze with his own. "The heart," he says, so sincerely that I feel a little bad I didn't think of that myself.

I lift one hand to rest in the top of his hair. "Good answer, Ned, but no… relative to size, it's the tongue," I say smiling at him.

Laughing, he lowers his lips to my abdomen again and scoots farther down between my legs. "I'm about to prove that, Stel. You might want to grab a pillow to yell into – I'm gonna do that thing with my tongue."

"Jesus, Ned," I breathe when he puts his mouth over me. I should be getting the pillow like he suggested, but I can't take my eyes off him. His eyes are closed at first, but when my gaspy breaths get louder… when my stomach twitches under his hand, he looks up at me. "Oh, my God… oh, my God," I groan, fighting to keep my voice quiet as the pleasure rips through me. I arch my back and reach for the hand he still has resting on my stomach, gripping his fingers as tightly as I can.

Edward slows the motion of his mouth, letting me recover slightly, but before I've really caught my breath, he sits up, grips the backs of my knees and pulls me down in the bed.

"You know what it does to me when you arch your back like that," he says with a smirk as he hovers over me. Smiling dazedly up at him, I reach my hands up to either side of his face, tracing my thumbs over his cheekbones. I pull him down to kiss me, sliding my arms around his shoulders.

"Fuck, I missed you," he mumbles against my lips as he pushes inside me.

"Please," I beg, lifting my hips to meet his. He slides in and out slowly, deliberately, several times, keeping his lips on mine. Then he finally speeds up, raising up on his knees and looking down at me.

I force my eyes to stay open and focused on him, even as I feel myself getting close again. "Ned… God, Ned," I cry out, knowing I'm too loud, but not caring at the moment.

"Come up here," he growls, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around my lower back as I clutch his shoulders and pull myself up. As soon as we're chest to chest, I kiss him, letting him hold me still for a moment, concentrating on the way our lips meet, the way our tongues lazily touch and then retreat.

Slowly we begin moving together again, and it doesn't take long in this position to put me back on the edge. My hips jerk involuntarily as I pull my mouth away from his and lower my open mouth to his shoulder, trying to muffle the sound of my voice as I come again. He thrusts into me twice more before groaning loudly as his orgasm hits.

Neither of us speaks as we catch our breath, sitting in the middle of the bed, clutching each other tightly. Repeatedly, I run my fingers through the damp hair at the base of his neck.

Eventually, he hangs on to me more tightly with one arm and tips me backward, bracing himself with his other arm. Once I'm lying flat again in the middle of the bed, he collapses beside me.

"So, Stella, not that I'm complaining, but what happened to the waiting plan?" he asks.

"It was a stupid plan," I reply, then laugh when he does. "This plan is much better."

"Agreed," he laughs, rolling onto his side to face me and reaching over to hold my hand.

Gently, he rubs his thumb over the back of my hand as we lie silently. My eyes are closed, but I'm smiling.

"We have to get up in five hours," he says quietly a few minutes later.

"Yep, I know. I'm so glad we packed earlier," I reply, opening my eyes and looking over at him.

"Scoot up in the bed, Stel, and I'll fix the covers," he murmurs when I yawn. I scoot up – and over – a little and fix the pillows for us as he gets the covers from the floor. He covers me up and then gets in beside me.

I lie on my side, tracing my fingers lightly over his face. "I love you," I whisper again, smiling at him.

"I love you, too," he says, leaning forward to kiss me.

"So tomorrow… back to reality. How do you think we'll do?" I ask.

"Florida isn't reality?" he teases.

"I mean… jobs and friends and… Rosalie," I say, proud of myself for not making a nasty face.

"Bella, Rosalie was never my reality," he responds, grabbing my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. "This, Bella… us… this is reality."

"You're right," I say, looking into his eyes. He pulls me close, pressing a kiss into the side of my neck and then chuckling as he feels goose bumps erupt up my arm. "Ned, do you know why these are called goose bumps?"

When he rears back to look at me, amusement is shining in his eyes. "No, Stel. I have no idea."

"Me either."

We're both laughing when I lean forward to kiss him, but I feel my pulse quicken again almost immediately.

"How much sleep do you think is absolutely necessary tonight?" I ask, breathing hard.

"Three or four hours should be plenty, I think," he answers, taking me with him as he rolls onto his back.

Sighing contentedly, I press my lips to his again. That sounds good to me.

* * *

**A/N 2: My nine year-old son came downstairs last week with the following written (in sharpie) on his bare chest: C.U.M. I almost peed my pants. I'll tell you the whole story next chap. :) **


	24. Turbulence

**A/N: Hey there! I'm skating in just under the 3 month mark... not good. I know. Thanks for being patient. :)**

**I promised the C.U.M. boy's story - and coincidentally today is his 10th bday. So happy birthday to my little demon...**

**He had been reading too many Captain Underpants books, but not wanting to plagiarize, he made up his own name and costume, complete with camoflage underwear on his head, a Riddler cape (green with question marks all over it) and his C.U.M. shield for Captain Underpants _Man_. **

**This is the same child who wanted to have a catchphrase a couple of months ago: "That's what _she_ said." **

**And the same child who, under dad's supervision *cough*not paying any attention whatsoever and making the 12 year olds watch him*cough* made out his birthday invitations (last summer, don't ask) at the same time as the 12 year olds (whose birthdays are actually in the summer). His sister wrote "No presents please" on hers... so he wrote (you know what I'm going to say) "Presents please" on his. They were mailed out, again by dad, and I had no clue until my friends started calling me cracking the hell up. Dad also planned a 5 and 1/2 hour party for sixteen 9 and 10 year olds... and then managed to be fishing in Canada the weekend of the party.**

**He is the reason I stopped having children (you can guess which "he" I'm talking about).**

**So, on to the important stuff... thanks to Windgirl810 for reading and beta-ing, and then reading and beta-ing again. :) And then chatting and not freaking when I told her things that freak _me_ out. WG, you're a calming, lovely influence on my life, writing and otherwise. You're also a terrific friend. :) You rock and I love you!**

**Thanks to Michelle0526 for prereading everything I send. :) Love ya, birch.**

**Thanks to Littlecat358 for prereading...and fixing my hot mess a couple of weeks ago...and then last week...and then earlier this week. You constantly prompt me to dig deeper. I truly appreciate all the advice, help, and friendship. :) xoxo**

**Thanks to tennesseelamb for the chapter title. I love that our text conversation over the last couple of days included pictures of shoes and marble statues of naked men. You know I love you! ;) **

**And, of course, thank you readers... Your alerts, favorites and reviews mean so much. :)**

**Don't own Twilight. **

**I added, deleted and tweaked til a minute ago, so all mistakes are me.**

**Back to Ned and Stella...**

* * *

**BPOV**

"Oh… God," I whisper as the hot stream of water beats against my shins. "I knew this wasn't a good idea."

"I love you," he breathes as he slowly slides into me again.

"I'm gonna kill you if we miss our flight," I pant, tightening my legs around his hips.

"We won't miss it," he says as I let my eyes close. He kisses me, capturing my lower lip between his as he pushes into me. When I whimper quietly, he releases my lip and I bury one hand in his wet hair as I move my mouth with his. He pulls out of me slowly, then thrusts back in quickly, surprising me.

"Oh… God… Ned," I gasp, wrenching my mouth away from his as I clutch his shoulders and dig my fingernails into his skin.

"Look at me, Stella," he orders, his voice low and hoarse. When I open my eyes, he's staring intently at me. He presses his open lips against mine, holding my gaze. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Finally," he exhales quietly, smiling against my lips as he adjusts his hands underneath my ass and angles his hips so that mine are pinned against the cool tile at my back. "Hang on, baby. I'll hurry so you don't have to kill me."

He plunges into me again, increasing his pace. Imprisoned by his hands and hips, I can't move as he pumps faster and faster… but I don't need to. He's hitting the right spot.

"Oh, my God… Edward," I cry quietly, reaching one hand up to grip his hair. I feel myself start to clench around him. "You feel so good."

"Jesus, Stel," he groans. He thrusts several more times, then holds himself still inside me as he comes.

Panting, I lean my head back against the tile wall and use the hand buried in his hair to pull his head in front of mine. His eyes are closed, his lips open as he catches his breath and I press my lips gently against his.

"You are extraordinarily distracting, Ned. Do you know that?" I ask. They're the same words he said to me in his office on the day we met. Everything about that day is etched in my memory… every word, every look, every touch. But I'm not sure he remembers… until he answers me.

He chuckles into my mouth before he repeats my reply from that same day. "How so, Miss Swan?"

"I knew this would happen if we tried to shower together," I smile, looking into his brilliant green eyes when he opens them. "That's why I told you to get ready in your own room."

"I got lonely," he explains, leaning his forehead against mine.

"In two minutes?" I laugh.

"I'm very needy," he replies, laughing, too. He shifts his head to kiss me, moving his lips and tongue lazily with mine for a moment, and then setting me down gently. He lets me step under the spray first to wash. "Jeez, Stel, hurry up. You're gonna make us late," he teases.

We mostly keep our hands to ourselves as we finish showering, but we talk quietly… exchange lingering kisses. It's the perfect ending to our time together here.

Half an hour later, I follow Edward down the stairs silently, fighting the tears that have been threatening since I zipped my suitcase closed. I puff my cheeks out and exhale shakily, but it's no use; the unwanted tears well in my eyes. When Edward reaches the foyer, he turns to look at me, then frowns when he sees that I'm upset.

"You all right?" he asks, setting our suitcases down and letting me walk into his arms. I nod as he wraps me up tightly.

"It's just hard to say goodbye. They're like brothers to me," I sniffle, resting my head against his chest.

"We'll come see them again, baby. Anytime you want," he soothes as he rubs my back gently, and then kisses the top of my head. "You go spend a minute with them and I'll put our bags in the car, okay?"

"Okay," I reply, looking up at him and squeezing him before I let go.

When I get to the kitchen doorway and look in, Jer is sitting at the table, staring down into the cup of coffee in front of him. He lifts his gaze to meet mine and we smile sadly at each other. "You look like I feel, Baby Swan," he says, getting up to pour me a cup of coffee. "This sucks."

Nodding, I go straight to him and hug him tightly. We don't move for a minute except to twist slowly side to side as we quietly discuss when we'll see each other again.

"Well, there's one half of the noisy pair of lovebirds," Scott chuckles from behind me as he comes in from the back deck.

"Shut up, Scott," I grumble, but I'm smiling. "We weren't noisy."

"Uh, yeah, you were," Jer laughs, then pulls away from me when I reach for the ticklish spot under his arms. I walk to the counter and stir sugar into the coffee he poured for me.

"It's Edward's fault," I say, keeping my back to them, feeling my face flush, but I know if I act embarrassed, they'll tease me relentlessly. "I _told_ him not to do that thing with his tongue again." I smirk when I hear Jer and Scott laugh behind me.

"Is that a compliment or a complaint?" Edward asks amusedly.

My eyes slide closed as my face goes from feeling slightly heated to flaming hot. Truly mortified now, I curse under my breath at my big mouth as I toss the spoon into the sink beside me. Cradling my cup between both hands, I open my eyes and turn around, hoping my cheeks aren't as red as I think they are.

"It wasn't a complaint, Ned," I smile, leaning back against the counter.

He walks across the kitchen, bending down to kiss me and then pouring coffee for himself. For the next few minutes, the four of us stand in the kitchen talking, and I write a short note to Mrs. Hill thanking her for her advice. After handing it to Jer to give to her, I turn to look questioningly at Edward.

"We'd probably better hit the road," he nods sympathetically.

When we get to the front porch, I hug Scott tightly while Edward shakes hands with Jeremy beside us.

"I love you both," I say, my voice cracking with emotion. When I let Scott go, he and Edward walk down the porch steps and out to the car as I move to hug Jer.

"Baby Swan, I'm so happy for you," he whispers, lifting me off the ground for a few seconds. "You got yourself a good one there."

"I know," I smile, pulling back to look up at him once he sets me down. "I love you, Jer. Come visit. Please."

"Maybe we'll make it up there this summer," he says, laughing when I roll my eyes. He says that every year, but they haven't been to Seattle yet.

We turn to walk arm-in-arm to the rental car parked at the curb. Scott is sitting in the driver's seat of the car lowering the convertible top for us. Edward says something to him and Scott's answer makes Edward laugh as he pulls his sunglasses from the neck of his shirt and puts them on. Smiling at the sound of his laughter, I watch as the guys shake hands and exchange back slaps once Scott is standing.

Edward gets behind the wheel and waits patiently while I kiss Scott and Jer again before sitting down beside him. As we pull away from the curb, I twist around in my seat to wave goodbye one last time. Once we turn the corner, I finally sit back in my seat and buckle up.

"How's my girl?" Edward asks, glancing over at me and reaching one hand over to rest on my leg. "Ready to head back to reality?"

"Ready," I smile, sliding my sunglasses on and covering his hand with mine.

* * *

Driving up the Overseas Highway with the top down, the wind noise makes it difficult to carry on a conversation. Instead, we turn the radio up and hold hands. Occasionally, I lean over to talk to him or point out something especially scenic or historic. As we drive past the beach where I stopped nine days ago, I remember standing ankle-deep in the water and deciding that I could be all right without Ned. And I could have. But I'm so much happier _with_ him.

Turning to look at him, I feel the pull in my chest and smile widely.

"What?" he yells, smiling back as he glances at me.

Shaking my head at him, I lean in close. "Nothing, Ned. I'm just happy," I say loudly, raising our joined hands to my mouth and kissing the back of his.

By the time we reach Miami, the caffeine has worn off and I'm looking forward to sleeping on the plane. As soon as we're settled in our first-class seats, I take the tiny pillow the flight attendant gave me and prop it against the window.

"You're gonna sleep?" he asks, leaning across the wide arm rest in between us. Apparently he isn't as tired as I am.

"Planning to," I mumble, but I turn to look pointedly at him. "Unless you want to discuss again how pissed off I am that you upgraded my ticket without asking."

He smirks – he knows I'm not _really_ mad. "No, I don't want to discuss that. Besides, Jasper did it when he made my reservation. I just paid for it."

"I can pay for my own ticket, Ned," I say, quirking on eyebrow at him. "You know I don't like you paying for everything. My income is probably less than yours – well, I'm sure it is even though we've never actually discussed our salaries – but I like being independent. I can take care of myself. And I didn't ask for this pillow just to have something to hit you with, so be quiet. I'm taking a nap now."

Rolling my eyes at his widening smile, I lean against the window and shut my eyes as the plane takes off.

"I love it when even your rambles are stubborn and sarcastic," he says lowly. "But what's the big deal? You weren't full of all this righteous indignation when I paid for us to fly to San Diego."

"I was doing you a favor then," I retort, keeping my eyes closed… but I can't contain the smile that's spreading across my face.

"Well, then do me another favor now," he says teasingly. "Quit bitching about the damn upgrade."

Laughing quietly, I turn to look at him, then stretch across the armrest to kiss him. "Okay," I concede. He reaches for my hand and quietly persuades me to shift around toward him. I set my pillow down on the armrest and lean against Ned's arm instead, letting my eyes slide shut.

"Jasper's picking us up?" he asks. Sighing, I nod. I don't think he's going to let me sleep. "Okay. My dad said he would pick us up if Jasper can't."

"When did you talk to your dad?" I ask, lifting my head to look at him.

"I called him this morning before we left Jer and Scott's," he says, surprising me since he rarely used to speak to Carlisle. When he sees my raised eyebrows, he continues. "We're closer now. I was… too hard on him before. After you broke things off with me, I held it together at work, but at home… I was miserable."

I wrap both of my arms around his and tilt my head against his shoulder again.

He clears his throat softly. "I started wondering if he felt that same way… you know, after my mom. I showed up on his doorstep one night and asked him," he says. "He answered everything. I never realized how much guilt he had… how deep his grief was for my brother and my mom. We talked for hours – cleared the air, straightened a lot of stuff out."

"I'm so glad, Ned," I reply, looking up at him. "He's a good man. You're so much like him."

Smiling slightly, he turns toward me. "The first time you said that to me last summer, I didn't want it to be true," he muses. "Now… I hope you're right."

"Ned, I am _always_ right," I insist conceitedly, trying to lighten the moment. He chuckles as I squeeze his arm.

"He's dating someone," he says.

"I met her," I tell him, sitting up suddenly as I remember that we haven't discussed that day. His smile fades as he listens to me talk about meeting Esme at his house, looking at the pictures on his mantel, then taking Riley and getting the hell out of there when I knew he was on the way.

"I wish I hadn't called. If I had just shown up, you might have still been at the house," he remarks sadly.

"Ned, I think things with us happened exactly the right way," I contend. Before I lose my nerve, I tell him about stopping at that beach on my way to Key West, and my realization that I was going to be okay.

"You really were ready to move on," he acknowledges, swallowing loudly.

"I was getting there. I wanted to be happy again… whether it was alone or with someone," I answer truthfully. He looks away, focusing on something at the front of the plane and shifting away from me. "Edward?"

"Huh?" he asks distantly. I'm surprised that he's closing himself off emotionally the way he did at times last summer… especially after what he just told me about Carlisle. I guess his old habits die just as hard as mine.

"That's important to me… that I was healing… that I'm stronger now than I used to be," I say, my voice quiet but forceful, urging him to understand what I mean.

"I didn't feel stronger when I thought you were with Jasper," he says, turning his wounded green gaze toward me. "I felt like shit." He sounds irritated.

"I did, too. For a long time," I declare, feeling a little annoyed myself. "But I thought you were unattainable. I thought I was going to have to watch Riley blow out her birthday candles while I stood next to you and your _wife_, Rosalie."

"Well, I had to watch you leave on a date with someone else last week," he fumes. "So I guess we're even."

"You acted like you were okay with that," I reply exasperatedly.

"_Acted_, Stel. You want to know how I really felt? Depressed and pissed and jealous as hell," he insists, leaning across the armrest and speaking quickly. "Why do you think I made sure he knew that we used to be together? And kissed you before you left? Why do you think I got drunk with Jeremy that night?"

"You're comparing my date with someone I had known for four days to your _engagement_?" I ask, leaning back against the window and crossing my arms over my chest.

"_Real_ date. _Fake_ engagement," he says snottily.

"Whatever," I mutter, resisting the urge to flip him off – barely. Grabbing my pillow from between us, I turn away from him and prop it against the window, then rest my head against it. Several minutes pass in silence before he touches my arm.

"Bella?" he asks quietly. I don't answer. "Why are we fighting?"

"I don't know," I shrug. "Because we stayed up almost all night having incredible sex and now we're both tired and grouchy?"

He chuckles quietly behind me and I smile. "I think that's it," he agrees, skimming his hand down my arm to my hand. I turn my palm up and slide my fingers in between his. "I'm proud of you… for being strong. I always knew you were, but I'm glad you realize it now, too."

"I'm glad, too. Know why?" I murmur. I wait until he says no before I continue. "Because when you came to Florida last week, I felt free to choose what would make me happy."

"And you chose me," he says simply. I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Yes, Ned. I chose you," I chuckle, squeezing his hand. Again, he pulls on my hand and arm until I turn around and lean against his shoulder. Once more, I close my eyes, this time with a warming smile on my face, hoping I'll actually get to go to sleep.

"Bella?" he asks a minute later.

I want to laugh in exhausted frustration, but instead I hmm at him and press my lips against his upper arm.

"There's only one woman I've ever thought about marrying… and it wasn't Rosalie," he says, bending his head down close to mine.

My heart begins to race erratically as I lift my head to look at him… to see if he means what I think he means. His green eyes are bright, sincere, honest. Lifting a hand to the side of his neck, I pull him toward me, resting my head against his, trying to silently convey my feelings, too. After a moment, I kiss him, never intending to make out on the plane, but finding it difficult to break away once my lips touch his. Eventually I have to breathe though, and I pull back to look at him again.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you, too, Ned," I answer, smiling at him. "And now that we've had our first fight and our first make-up, can I _please_ take a nap?"

He laughs as he says yes and I talk him into reclining his seat to match mine, even though he says he never sleeps on airplanes. Leaning against his shoulder again, I close my eyes. Just before I fall asleep, I sigh contentedly as I feel his lips against my forehead.

* * *

As we deplane in Seattle, I'm still yawning and tilting my head from side-to-side to work out the kinks from sleeping for several hours against Ned's shoulder. Once we get out of the secure area, I scan the crowd of people, looking for Jasper's blonde curls. I don't spot him, but I do see a really cute five-year-old with blonde curls waving wildly from her seat atop someone's shoulders… then she disappears. But I hear her.

"Uncle Edward! Bella!"

"Dibs," I say, handing my backpack to Edward and stepping in front of him. I move faster toward the sound of her voice until I see her. Laughing through the sudden happy tears in my eyes, I bend down to catch her as she rushes into my arms.

"Hi! Hi! Hi!" she says excitedly, wrapping her arms and legs around me as I stand up.

"Hi, sweetie," I murmur. "How are you?" I squeeze her tightly for a second before I feel Edward at my back.

He kisses the top of her head and then mine as he hugs us both and says hi to her. When he lets us go and we start walking toward where Alice and Jas are waiting, he turns to look at me. "You can't just call dibs and run for her," he protests teasingly.

"Uh, well, I did," I retort, turning to smile at him. "So apparently I can."

"Bella, guess what," Riley says, recapturing my attention as she rears back in my arms to look at me. "My mommy has a boyfriend and his name is Jasper. He told me he's your best friend and that he calls you Baby Swan."

"That's right," I nod.

"And my mommy says that Uncle Edward is an idiot – and another word I'm not allowed to repeat – but you forgave him," she continues as Edward and I laugh. She levels her bright blue gaze his way next. "Uncle Edward, is Bella your girlfriend again?"

"Yes," he answers firmly. The certainty of his short, simple answer pleases me and I turn to smile at him. Riley squirms around in my arms until I set her down, then tear my eyes away from Edward to watch her race toward Jasper. I see him scoop her up and laugh at whatever she says to Alice.

As we continue walking, Edward reaches for my hand and bends down to whisper in my ear. "Marry me," he says quietly.

My breath hitches and I stumble as I turn to look at him. He clutches my hand tightly, steadying me as we stop walking and face each other. I feel like I can't breathe and I know my mouth is hanging open as I blink silently up at him. I don't think he's serious… he can't be serious… it's too soon and he knows it… he knows I won't say yes. But I don't think he's really fucking with me – I think it's more like testing the waters, seeing if I'll run away again.

I won't.

Finally, I close my mouth and swallow. Lifting up on my tiptoes, I press my lips gently to his. "No," I whisper.

"Why not?" he asks, pulling back to look at me. He doesn't look upset or surprised at my answer, just curious.

"You know why not. We've been together four days, and you're not serious anyway," I say, squeezing his hand and lifting my other hand to rest against his chest. "Plus, we're in the freaking airport. Not very romantic, Ned."

"Then come home with me tonight," he shrugs, smirking at me.

"No," I say, shaking my head slightly. "I haven't been home in two weeks. I want to sleep in my own bed."

"So… this is reality? A cold, empty bed for me?" He sounds like he's teasing… mostly. I think he's a little annoyed though.

"No, Ned," I reply gently, taking my backpack from him and slinging it over my shoulder. I reach for his hand again and hold it between both of mine. "Reality is I love you. Reality is we both have to go back to work tomorrow. We didn't sleep much last night and if I stay with you, we won't sleep much tonight either."

That makes him laugh. "Tomorrow night?" he asks hopefully.

"Tomorrow night," I agree.

* * *

On the way home, we stop for pizza at Zeppi's. Riley entertains us with stories about school, rambling on and on, sporadically hopping from one subject to another the same way she hops from my lap to Edward's to Jasper's.

"I bet this is exactly how you were when you were little," Edward says, smiling at me.

"My dad says I was a quiet kid. I'm not sure when I got so aimlessly chatty," I laugh, shrugging one shoulder at him.

"You were this way when I met you," Jas laughs, jerking his thumb at Riley. "The first night I met you at Newton's apartment, you never stopped talking. I almost kissed you just to stop your lips from moving."

"Shut up!" I frown, but I can't stop the giggle that escapes. Edward and Alice are both chuckling, too.

"You barely even took a breath, Baby Swan," he drawls when he continues. "I was afraid you'd have brain damage from lack of oxygen. Living together hasn't slowed you down much either." He turns to look at Alice. "She even talks to me when I'm in the shower." Alice laughs. Edward is still smiling, but he doesn't look amused.

I widen my eyes at Jas when he glances my way, and he suddenly seems to realize that this conversation has veered into an uncomfortable area. Insisting tonight's dinner is on him, he excuses himself to go pay the bill while Alice takes Riley to the bathroom to wash up.

"Hey," I say quietly, turning to Edward and taking his hand once we're alone. "You know it's just… Jasper and I have known each other for a long time."

"I know," he replies, looking down and reaching for the bracelet hanging around my wrist. He twirls it around, making the charms clink together softly. Then he sighs loudly. "I'm going to have to get used to it."

"Uncle Edward!" Riley exclaims, rushing back to our table. "Can I spend the night with you and Bella? I don't have school tomorrow."

"Bella's not staying at my house tonight, Riley," he says brusquely, dropping my hand. His mouth settles into a thin, tight line. "She's going to her house."

"Jasper's house. She lives with Jasper," Riley corrects. I want to hang my head and groan, but instead I lift Riley onto my lap.

"Tell you what, sweetie," I say, wrapping my arms around her. "I'll talk to Uncle Edward and we'll plan something very soon, okay?"

"Okay," she replies dismissively, sliding off my lap and racing toward Alice and Jasper.

I smile pleadingly at Edward and he half-smiles back. "Let's go," he says, taking my hand again. He stands and then pulls me up next to him, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as we walk toward the door.

* * *

After we take Alice and Riley home, we drop Edward off at his house. I get out to tell him goodnight on the sidewalk.

"I love you," I whisper, hugging him tightly.

"I know," he says, but he still seems a little disgruntled. "I love you, too, Stel. I'll call you tomorrow." He kisses me twice before turning to walk into the house.

When we get home, Jas carries my suitcase to my room for me and sits on the bed as I begin unpacking. After not really talking to each other for nine days, he's got a lot to say. He gives me the rundown on what's been happening at work and then, of course, segues to Alice. I pause to smile at him as he talks about Alice and Riley. He's head over heels for both of them, and no one deserves to have that more than these three people.

When he's finally silent for a moment, I deduce that he's ready to start grilling me. I haven't said much so far, but that's mostly because I'm so exhausted.

"So things went well in Key West?" he asks quietly. When I look at him, he's studying my face intently. Smiling, I nod. "So I'm not in trouble for sending the bastard down there?"

Laughing, I flop facedown onto the bed. Jas lies down on his back and we look at each other around the top of the suitcase in between us. "You're not in trouble," I say. "Did he really hit you?"

"Yep," Jas replies, chuckling. "He hits pretty fucking hard, too." He tells me his version of the night… of the whiskey-drinking and talking. "When he told me he loved you, I knew I had to either clock him for being so fucking stupid or send him to you so you could do it. Did you punch him?"

"No," I say.

"Run away from him?" he asks, laughing louder when I nod reluctantly. "I knew it would be one of those. You're so predictable, Baby Swan."

"I might punch _you_now," I smirk sleepily. Lying still, I'm suddenly having trouble keeping my eyes open. As I listen to Jas talk about how pissed Alice was at Edward, I let my eyes slide closed. I drift off to sleep immediately, then groggily raise my head when I feel Jas pull my shoes off.

"Come on, Baby Swan. Scoot around here," he says, pulling and lifting me until I'm lying on my pillow. He covers me up, then leans down to kiss my forehead. "Sleep tight, sugar."

I open my eyes as he turns off the light and starts to shut the door. "Jas?" I murmur. "Thank you… for sending him. I love you so much."

"I love you so much, too," he replies as he closes the door quietly.

Sighing happily, I can't imagine anything destroying this mood.

* * *

"What?" I screech, glaring across my desk at Emmett.

From the corner of my eye, I see Jasper's eyebrows shoot up as he gets up to shut my office door. I know I was loud, but I don't care. I can't believe they waited until the end of the day to come in here and drop this shit on me. Jasper sits back down in one of the chairs in front of my desk… Emmett is cowering in the other one.

"Bell, just give her a chance, okay?" Emmett pleads, aiming his deep, blue gaze at me.

"No fucking way," I seethe. "Jesus Christ. First Edward, now you. What the hell? Does Rosalie have some kind of superpower I'm not aware of? Is she a voodoo priestess? An evil queen who put you under some magic spell? How can you stand to be around such an icy bitch?"

"She's not like that," Emmett insists, leaning forward and putting his hands on my desk. "She's great. And she feels terrible about you and Edward… and all the other stuff."

"I don't care, Emmett," I reply angrily. "You say you're my selection committee? Well, I'm _your_ selection committee. And she doesn't pass."

"You don't know her," he defends heatedly, pissing me off even more.

"I don't want to," I retort, my volume increasing again.

I hear Jasper chuckling quietly and turn my glare his way, but he's busy grinning at Emmett. "Told you she'd be pissed," he drawls, holding a hand out, palm up, toward Em. "Pay up."

My glare settles into a disbelieving frown as Emmett pulls a twenty from his money clip.

"You're betting on me?" I ask, hurt. "You hit me with this bullshit about you and Rosalie on my first day back and you're betting on me, too?"

"Baby Swan, I told you last night you're too predictable. I knew you wouldn't be happy about this development," Jas boasts. "Emmett, however, thought you would be a little more open-minded… since you forgave Edward. And since Rosalie was helping him and trying to protect Riley."

Narrowing my eyes at Jasper, I stop myself from any other outward reaction to his statements. I know what he's doing… trying to make me feel petty and harsh for judging Rosalie without really knowing her. And trying to make me ashamed that Emmett thinks I'm a better person than I actually am.

Dammit. It's working.

Exhaling in a loud gust, I close my eyes. When I open them again, I ignore Jas and look straight at Emmett. "What do you want me to do?" I ask quietly.

"Have dinner with us… Friday night," he says hesitantly. "All of us… Edward, Jasper and Alice, too."

Hmm. Plenty of buffers. I finally glance at Jasper, looking into those Texas skies that have rarely steered me wrong. He winks and nods minutely at me.

"Okay," I finally relent, rolling my eyes when Emmett whoops and hops out of his chair. He walks around to my side of the desk and pulls me out of my chair.

"Thanks, Bell," he says quietly, hugging me close. "She's important to me." I hug him back, turning my head away so neither of them can see me pretending to gag at his remark.

He rushes out – probably to call _her_ – and I sit down and swivel my chair around to look out the window behind me. I hear my office door close and assume Jas left, too, but then I hear the crinkly squeak of the leather chair as he sits back down. Tilting my head back against the top of my chair, I close my eyes. Sometimes I hate that he knows me so well.

"What's going on, Baby Swan?" he asks quietly. "Yesterday when you got back, your eyes were all lit up. But today… the light's gone."

"I don't know," I whine.

"Are you seeing Edward tonight?" he asks.

"Yeah," I whisper. I haven't spoken to Edward today. He left me a voicemail earlier when I was in a meeting, but I didn't call him back; I just texted him that I'd meet him at his house. "I'm supposed to go over there in an hour."

"Are you staying with him tonight?"

"Not sure yet," I say, my voice still hushed as I open my eyes and look out at the gray clouds. "I'll let you know."

"Are you okay?" he asks hesitantly.

I puff my cheeks out and exhale slowly. "I feel weird… nervous," I muse, laying one hand on my upset stomach. I wonder if there's still Pepto in my desk.

"You're having doubts?" he asks gently.

"No!" I exclaim, spinning my chair back around to frown at him. "No… but it feels like we're starting over or something."

"It's been a while since you guys were together, Baby Swan," he reasons. "Five days together last week can't make up for the five months you were apart. But you'll adjust."

"Yeah, I know," I say, nodding.

"Just talk to him," he urges. "Don't close yourself off."

"I will. I won't," I say, knowing he's right. I push myself out of my chair and pull my leather jacket from the coat rack. "I'm going home to change. Are you coming?"

"Nope. I'm taking Alice and Riley out to dinner," he says as he helps me into my coat. "Gimme some sugar, sugar." We kiss each other's cheeks and then hug lightly before letting go. As he drives out of the parking lot a few minutes later, he smiles and waves. I wave back, wishing I felt as eager for my dinner date as he does.

* * *

My anxiety worsens as I drive to Edward's an hour later. When I turn onto his street, I swallow uncomfortably. I pull over to the curb and look at the house; it's dark outside, but the whole house is glowing with a soft light from within. It's so inviting… and yet I feel like throwing up.

As I walk up the sidewalk, I glance toward the double garage door and feel my stomach lurch. I used to park in there. My heart is pounding as I climb the porch steps and look at the front door. I used to go right in, not knock or ring the doorbell like I will tonight. I lift my hand to rest against the door… and chicken out.

Turning away, I move toward the porch swing as I zip my coat to ward off the chilly evening air. I sit down on the swing, pulling one leg up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my raised knee. Looking at the houses across the street, I push myself back and forth crookedly with the foot still on the ground. I love this neighborhood. I love this house. And I love the man who lives here… but I don't know the little details about his life anymore. We're close, but we're not close the way we were last summer.

Last week, we were in our own little world – just like last summer. Just Ned and me. But now, we're home… and it's a real relationship; we're not just friends or fuck buddies anymore. He's my boyfriend. He's thought about marrying me. We have to deal with jobs and families and friends – and Rosalie.

Jesus, I need Pepto.

When I hear the front door open, I turn to look at him, automatically smiling when I see him grinning at me as he steps onto the porch.

"What are you doing out here, Stel?" he asks quietly as he shuts the door to the house and walks toward me.

"Thinking," I answer. I stop the swing so he can sit down next to me.

"Is something wrong?" he asks, extending his arm behind me.

"No… yes… I don't know. My stomach hurts," I exhale, leaning toward him. "I want to go back to Florida."

He chuckles quietly and wraps his arm around my shoulders. "I'm nervous, too," he admits, kissing the top of my head. "I suddenly realized today that I don't really know what's going on with your life – I mean besides us."

"Ned, that's exactly how I feel," I say, twisting to the side a little to wrap my arm around his chest. "So much has happened in the last six days."

"Yeah. A week ago, you were in Florida moving on without me," he muses as he pushes the swing back and forth gently.

"And you were here punching people and drinking whiskey," I say, smiling when I feel the laughter rumble through his chest. Sitting up, I turn sideways to face him. "I'm happy, Edward. I just feel… tilted, you know? Like I need to get my bearings."

"I get it," he replies softly, taking my hand when I hold it toward him. "We'll just take our time. Get accustomed to each other's lives again."

When I lean forward to kiss him, his lips are cold. "Baby, where's your coat?" I ask.

"Inside," he answers. "Didn't think I'd be out here this long. You want to come in with me to get it? Then I'll take you to dinner."

He stops the swing and stands up, pulling me up with him. As we step inside the house, my eyes land on the couch, and I'm nauseous all over again. My thoughts immediately jump to the morning I left – when I told him I didn't love him… and he told me to get out.

While he turns off the kitchen lights and gets his coat, I walk toward the couch, determined to face the fear and pain I felt when I was here with Esme a few weeks ago. But as I stand behind the couch rubbing my fingers along the soft fabric, I don't feel either of those things. Even though I'm thinking about Halloween night, the horrible images of the last few moments we spent together are suddenly replaced by other memories – how gentle yet eager he was as he pulled at my clothes, how tenderly we moved together. His warm breath on my neck when he said he loved me.

"Right behind you," he says quietly just before he slides his arms around my waist to rest on my suddenly calmer stomach.

"I heard you, Ned," I reply, resting my head against his chest. "You're not all that sneaky."

"I don't want to sneak around anymore with you. I want people to know we're together," he says. "That okay?"

"Uh… depends what you mean. You're not putting my picture in 'Inside Hale Software' or anything are you?" I joke.

He laughs and kisses me when I turn around in his arms. "No," he replies, his green gaze holding mine. "I was thinking more of telling Jack what's going on. Maybe going to see your dad. I feel like I owe him an explanation."

"Tell Jack whenever you want," I say, hooking my arms around his neck and playing idly with his hair. "But I may need to give my dad a little warning. Jas blabbed about your engagement… and my dad carries a gun. Let me bring him around a bit, then maybe we can go see him for his birthday next month. Okay?"

"Okay," he agrees, smiling at me. "Can we go eat now? I'm starving."

Laughing, I tug on his neck and raise up on my tiptoes until I can reach his lips to kiss him. "Let's go. I'm hungry, too."

* * *

That night, Edward doesn't ask me to sleep over. He follows me home and walks me to the front door, then asks me out for Tuesday night.

Tuesday, he texts me several times during the day and calls twice. After dinner that night, he takes me to the pub we went to the night we met, and we sit in the same secluded, back booth. For over three hours, we talk and laugh and hold hands across the table. When he takes me home just before midnight, he kisses me and asks me to dinner Wednesday… but he doesn't ask to come in.

The next night follows the same basic pattern of dinner and talking. We're both still a little hesitant with each other, but it's getting easier to talk, even about the difficult subjects. Only one subject seems to remain strictly off-limits: Rosalie. Neither of us brings her up at all.

Since Friday and the getting-to-know-Rosalie dinner is quickly approaching, I decide to bite the bullet. When Edward takes me home Wednesday night, I invite him for dinner at home the next night, with the intention of getting any residual issues about _her_ out in the open.

But I'm still a scaredy cat at heart, so before he arrives on Thursday, I open a bottle of wine and pour myself half a glass. I'm taking my first sip as Jas walks into the kitchen.

"Hitting the sauce _before_ the date? I thought you said things were going well," Jas remarks, leaning a hip against the counter to face me.

"They are. But we need to talk about Rosalie," I say, setting the wineglass down as I open the oven to check the food. "I don't want any surprises for either of us tomorrow night."

Jas picks up my glass and takes a sip. "Baby Swan, I'm proud of you," he says, handing the glass back after I close the oven and turn to face him. "You're handling all this – Edward's friendship with her, Emmett's relationship with her – very well."

"Uh, no. I'm not. Hence the wiiiine," I trill, dragging the word out and holding my glass up high.

Laughing, Jas pulls me to his chest and hugs me tightly. "I'm still proud of you… and happy for you… and happy for me," he chuckles as I pat his back.

"Um… hi?" Edward says from the doorway. "Sorry. The note on the door said to come on in."

"Hi, Ned," I smile, backing away from Jas.

"Hey, Edward," Jas says lightly as Edward looks uneasily between Jas and me. "All right. I'm out of here. You kiddies have fun."

I wait until Jas is gone before I say anything. "Quit looking at me like that," I say lowly. "He's my best friend. But I'm in love with you… and he's in love with your sister."

He nods. "I know. I've just… you guys are very comfortable physically with each other."

"Yes, we are," I acknowledge. "And I told you that last summer. But it's not like we sit around at night all snuggled up, Ned."

"I get it, Stella," he says, rubbing one hand across his face. "I'm just not used to seeing it yet."

I set my glass down on the counter and walk toward him, smiling when he bends down slightly so I can bury my face in his neck while I hug him.

"Can I help with dinner?" he asks when I start to pull away.

"No, thanks," I laugh as I look up at him.

"I'm better than I used to be," he argues, smiling widely at me – finally. "I can toss a salad. And I never burn the garlic bread anymore."

Laughing, I tug on his neck until he kisses me. "Where did you learn that?" I murmur against his lips.

He kisses me again before he answers. "Uh… Rosalie. She made me help," he answers reluctantly.

I sigh, wishing this hadn't come up quite so early in the evening. Then again, maybe it's better to get it over with. "Okay, Ned. We need to talk about her. Pour us both a glass of wine and let's sit down," I say.

For the next hour, we eat and he talks. He answers every question I ask him… even the one about whether he saw her naked.

"Ever or in the last year?" he asks, scrunching his face up a little.

Closing my eyes, I lift my eyebrows and wish I had started with tequila instead of red wine. "Both, I guess," I mutter, opening my eyes to look at him.

"Well, when we were kids, we skinny dipped once," he admits. "But neither of us had hit puberty yet. So I'm not sure that counts. But she was the first non-related girl I saw naked."

Okay. That wasn't terrible. I pick up my wine and take a sip as he continues.

"In the last year, I haven't seen her naked. I saw part of her boob one night in the hotel," he says. I take two bigger sips of merlot. "It was just the side, I promise. And I looked away."

At that comment, I pull the glass away from my lips and smirk at him, quirking one eyebrow.

"After a few seconds," he says sheepishly, turning red.

"Kissing?" I ask briskly, taking a big drink of wine this time and holding it in my mouth. This is not proper etiquette, but I don't care.

"Only as part of the plan," he says. "Only in front of people or when we knew we'd get caught. We needed the rumors to get back to James."

I swallow the wine loudly. "So… never in the hotel room?" I ask, taking a deep breath and holding it.

"Never, Stel," he answers seriously. Exhaling loudly, I nod and smile, grasping his hand tightly when he reaches toward me.

* * *

Once the kitchen is cleaned up, we move to the couch in the living room. I'm much more relaxed now that we've made it past my least favorite subject… or maybe it's the wine. Or maybe it's both.

When Jas texts me that he's on his way home, I ask Edward if he wants to stay down here or move to my room to talk.

"Let's stay here," he suggests with a shrug. "I need to get to know him better since he's involved with Alice and Riley now. And I don't want to be jealous of your friendship with him anymore."

When Jas comes in, he gets a glass of wine and sits down in the chair next to the couch. Cognizant of Edward's lingering discomfort about the earlier hugging, I make a point to scoot closer to him on the couch, lean against him, and include him in everything Jas and I talk about. And when Jas talks practically nonstop about Alice, then relates all the funny things Riley said to him tonight, I think he wins Edward over.

"Well, I'm gonna head up," Jas says an hour later. "We've got a big night tomorrow. Right, Baby Swan?"

"Don't remind me," I groan as Edward chuckles.

After we all say goodnight and Jasper is safely upstairs, I reach forward to set my empty wineglass on the coffee table, and then turn sideways on the couch.

"I can't wait any longer," I whisper as I lift my hand to Edward's neck. Leaning into him, I settle my lips against his as soon as he's close enough. He moans quietly, burying one hand in my hair to hold my head still as he kisses me back.

After a couple of minutes, I'm uncomfortable in this twisted position, so I break away long enough to raise up on my knees and swing one leg over his lap.

"Better," I sigh, smiling against his lips as I sink both hands into his hair.

"Much better," he replies, grasping my hips and spreading his fingers across my ass.

We haven't kissed like this for several days, and my desire spikes quickly as we move our lips and tongues together feverishly. He pulls his mouth away from mine, nuzzling my neck as he slides his hands to my waist and then up slightly, using his thumbs to caress the sides of my breasts. Breathing hard, I grip his hair and lean back a little, trying to move his hands to my chest. But he keeps them in place.

"Baby, we're in the living room… and you have a roommate," he says lowly, breathing into the left side of my neck. I shiver as goosebumps erupt down my left arm. Smiling, he rubs them away as he rears back to look at me. "It's late anyway. I should go home."

"No! I don't want you to go," I whisper desperately. "Stay?" I press my lips softly against his.

"I'll feel weird with Jasper in the house," he mumbles.

I let my hands drop to his shoulders and shift backward on his legs. "We can just sleep, Edward," I insist quietly, searching his deep, green eyes. "I just… feel so close to you tonight. I'm not ready to let that go."

Smiling and nodding slightly, he relents, then chuckles when I dive toward his chest and hug him. We sit intertwined a little longer before I scoot off him and pull him up. He helps me turn out all the lights and we walk upstairs holding hands.

In my room, I let him use the bathroom first while I turn down the sheets for us. Since it's been chilly this week, I've been wearing flannel pajamas to bed, but there's no way in hell I'm putting those on with Edward here. Well, maybe just the top…

Several minutes later, I come out of the bathroom in a red flannel shirt with black boyshorts underneath. Edward is standing in front of my dresser – stripped down to his boxers – and I let my eyes wander lingeringly up and down his body. Then I realize that he's studying the photos I have displayed… and there are none of him in the bunch. I have framed pictures of Riley… Jasper and Emmett… my dad… the whole Whitlock family. There's even one of my mom.

Without saying anything to him, I walk into the closet and get a shoebox from the top shelf. He turns to look at me quizzically as I approach and hand him the box, then I take the lid off and drop it to the floor.

He peers inside as I take out the pictures I put away – frames and all – when I thought things between us were over. Two photos of us in New York. Two from the weekend in San Diego – one of us alone, and one with Peter and Charlotte. A photo of Riley and him peeking out the window of the playhouse. One of us with my dad at my birthday lunch.

"I couldn't stand looking at them," I whisper, remembering how painful it was to see his face… to think about him being in love with Rosalie. "I kept them in my nightstand at first, but it was too hard, I was too tempted to look at them."

While I set the photos down and arrange them the way I want, he digs through the other, unframed, pictures in the box.

"Where'd you get this?" he asks curiously, pulling out the "Inside Hale Software" magazine, which, of course, is open to the glossy GQ photo of him.

"Snagged it from the Hale reception area the day of our first meeting," I admit with a chuckle, wrapping both of my arms around one of his. I press my lips against his bicep as I study the picture for the first time in over two months. "That's where I first saw you… right before we met in your office."

"That was one of the best days of my life," he says quietly, putting the magazine back in the box and setting it down on my dresser.

"Mine, too," I breathe, as we face each other… reach for each other. He bends down, crashing his open lips against mine and wrapping his arms around my waist. I cup the sides of his face to hold him still while I slide my tongue along his bottom lip, then into his mouth. As we kiss, I skim my hands down his neck to rest on his chest, feeling his heart pound underneath my fingertips.

When I dig my nails into his bare skin, he grunts quietly and lifts one hand up to the back of my head, twisting my hair around his fingers. He tugs gently, making me arch farther backward as he nips along my jaw and down my neck.

"Don't stop kissing me," I plead, my voice hushed. In response, I feel his tongue on my neck for an instant before he sucks gently on a spot just below my left ear. Unable to help myself, I push my hips against his, gasping quietly when he drops the hand on my waist lower, holding my lower body against his as he presses himself against me.

"Bella," he groans, carefully unwinding my hair from his fingers and gliding that hand down my back, too. He pulls his face out of my neck and puts his lips on mine again, continuing to move his hips as we pant into each other's mouths. I shift my arms to wrap around his shoulders when he bends slightly, lifting me up and turning to walk toward the bed. We tumble down clumsily, keeping our lips pressed together even though we're both smiling as we hit the mattress. We end up lying diagonally on the bed with one of Ned's legs in between mine.

He reaches for the top button on my shirt, quickly slipping it and the next two free and sliding his hand inside. I whimper into his mouth when he circles my nipple with his index finger, arching my back to force myself into his hand.

"Please," I whisper, gripping his hair with one hand as he kisses down my neck toward my chest, nudging my shirt aside as he goes. He rolls and tugs my nipple between two fingers, then grasps my breast with his hand as he covers it with his mouth. I feel his tongue swirl smoothly around my nipple before he sucks, wedging his knee between my legs at the same time.

Both of us moan as I lift my hips and press myself against his knee. He raises his head to look at me when he reaches for my leg, wrapping his hand around it and squeezing before gliding his fingers slowly up my inner thigh. He presses his hand against me, stroking me over my underwear several times. Then, keeping his gaze on mine, he finally slips his fingers under the material to circle my clit unhurriedly.

"Ned… please," I beg, digging my fingernails into his shoulders.

"I want you, but, baby, we are loud," he says, leaning over me and sliding one finger inside me. "Can you be quiet?"

"I'll try," I promise, rolling my lips together to contain my moan as he adds a second finger and pumps them deliberately in and out of me. He lowers his head to kiss a path between my breasts. "Can I bite you?"

As he raises up to look at me again, his brow is furrowed like he's in pain. "Fuck, yeah," he growls as he presses his fingers inside me, holding still as I move my hips against them. I can't stop the moan this time, and he immediately kisses me to muffle the sound. I capture his lower lip between mine and bite gently, only letting go when he groans quietly.

"Can I be on top?" I ask breathlessly as he latches onto my nipple again.

"Jesus, Stel. You're killing me," he answers against my breast. But he looks up at me and smiles as he pulls his fingers out of me – excruciatingly slowly. He rolls away, shoving his boxers down and kicking them off the side of the bed. "Come on."

Bending my knees, I slide my boyshorts down my legs, then flip over and straddle him. He puts one hand on my waist to steady me and holds his cock with the other as I sink down onto him.

"Fuck," he whispers, closing his eyes.

I let mine slide shut, too, as I lift and lower myself, setting a slow rhythm. I feel his fingers graze my stomach as he unbuttons the last two buttons on my top.

"Take it off," he says hoarsely. Opening my eyes, I look into his as I shrug my shoulders, letting the shirt fall partway down my arms, exposing my chest, but still hanging from my bent elbows. "You're so beautiful."

"Edward," I whisper. Under me, I feel his hips buck as he thrusts into me. He pulls on the shirt until I let it slip off and he flings it to the side, then grips my hips with his hands, urging me to move faster.

"Edward," I repeat… but I think I was loud, so I clamp my lips together.

"Oh, fuck, Bella," he groans quietly. He raises his hands to cup my breasts, rubbing his thumbs across my nipples as I press my fingers against my mouth to keep from crying out. When I whimper, he smiles at me. "You're doing so good, baby. You feel so fucking good." I let my eyes close as I speed up again.

"Edward… I can't… Ned," I cry softly, falling forward onto my extended arms and holding still as pleasure races through me. He continues caressing my breasts as I gasp and jerk my hips.

When I recover a bit, I lower myself farther and kiss him, nibbling gently at his lips. After a minute, he trails his hands down the front of my body to grip my hips again, nudging me gently to start moving. I push myself up slightly on my arms, hovering my face a few inches above his and opening my eyes.

"I love you," I whisper as I rock against him.

"I love you, Stel," he answers, looking at me and reaching one hand to my face. He traces his index finger along my top lip, tickling me… arousing me again. I reach for his wrist, holding his hand still as I pull his finger into my mouth, stroking the underside of it with my tongue and then sucking gently in time with his thrusts.

"Mmmm," I moan – loudly again, I think – when he pushes more powerfully into me. I let my hand skim down his forearm and drop to the bed to support me as I fasten my teeth on his finger and bite down lightly.

"Bella," he groans hoarsely. Keeping my eyes on his, I slowly pull my mouth away, until his finger drops from my mouth to my chin, and then I sit up, shaking my hair out behind me. I continue moving on him at a steady pace as he grasps my sides, brushing his thumbs along the underside of my breasts. When I move a little faster, his eyes slide closed, his lips drop open and his hands fall to my legs.

"Baby, please," he groans, gripping my thighs. He sits up suddenly, putting his hands under my ass to support me. "Switch your legs, Stel," he commands, helping me move my legs to wrap around him on the bed.

Once I'm settled, he kisses me passionately for a few seconds before pulling his mouth away. Groaning quietly, he lifts and lowers me roughly several times. I feel myself racing toward another orgasm and wrap my arms tightly around him as I lower my mouth to the top of his shoulder.

"Oh, God… Ned," I whisper against his skin. "You're gonna make me… again."

"I want you to," he growls.

Gasping, I feel the pleasure burst and spread through my body. I sink my teeth into his skin and suck, grunting quietly as he continues to move me until I feel him release.

"Fuck… Stella," he says, wrapping his arms around my back. This time, he's the one that's loud.

I pull my mouth away from his shoulder, kissing up his neck and then along his jaw until I reach his mouth. Breathing hard, he puts his mouth on mine, but he doesn't really move his lips with mine.

"Jesus, Bella," he mumbles as I continue to place kisses along his lower lip from one side to the other. "What the hell did you do to me?"

"Fucked you so hard that you don't know where you are?" I ask innocently, pulling back to look into his eyes.

"Christ, baby. You sure did," he breathes, smiling. I smile back and kiss him again. This time he kisses me, too, his heart still racing against my chest. When we break apart a minute later, we hug tightly, clutching each other and rocking gently side to side.

Eventually, he pulls back to look at me, placing one more kiss on my lips. "Want to lie down?" he asks.

We both chuckle as we try to gracefully untangle ourselves, then he lies on his back and holds me close to his side. I rest my head on his shoulder and scratch my fingers lazily across his stomach – the same way he does when he wakes up.

"Was I loud?" I ask.

"I have no idea, baby," he says, sounding amused. "I think I was loud once."

"Oh, you definitely were," I say, propping myself up so I can see his face.

"Marry me," he breathes, lifting his hand to my face, grazing his fingers along my cheek.

My heart beats wildly and I smile softly at him. "No," I answer.

"Then live with me," he says.

"No," I repeat, leaning down to kiss him.

"Why not? It's been eight days now," he says, smiling against my lips.

Sighing, I pull away far enough to look in his eyes. "I'm relieved that you can count, Ned. But you know it's too soon," I say gently. "We have to know each other again."

"We're getting there," he says seriously, nodding at me.

"Yes, Ned. We are," I agree.

"You know I'll wear you down," he says teasingly. "You can't resist me forever."

I don't intend to, but it's also too soon to tell him that. Instead, I press one more lingering kiss against his lips, then roll over to turn off the lamp. We both settle in, lying on our sides and facing each other. I scoot toward him so I can rest against his chest.

"Kiss me goodnight," I whisper, tilting my head back. I smile when our lips meet.

"You've got trivia, don't you?" he chuckles against my mouth. I giggle and nod. "See? I do know you. Hit me."

"Did you know that our brains have special neurons to help us find each other's lips in the dark?" I ask.

"Just you and me or humans in general?" he laughs, trailing his hand down my arm to link our fingers.

"All humans," I say wryly. "Arrogant semi-asshole."

"Ah, there's my girl," he murmurs, using his special neurons to find my lips again. When I pull away and burrow into my favorite spot, I sigh happily.

"Night, Ned," I whisper.

"Night, Stel," he replies.

* * *

Edward and I are the last to arrive at the restaurant Friday night. As we approach the table where everyone else is already seated, I see that I have a choice… either I can sit by Rosalie or Edward can. I vote for him.

Narrowing my eyes slightly, I think about the first time I met her in New York last summer. I remember her iciness when we first spoke, her cattiness when she brought up Edward's old girlfriend in front of me. My stomach clenches as I recall how intimidated I was by the time Edward and I left the board meeting.

Involuntarily, more images fill my mind – all from the Hale Christmas party – causing a mixture of jealousy and pain to quickly course through my veins. Rosalie's rudeness when she came to pull Edward away from the conversation he was having with me… her breathtaking smile as she stood wrapped in his arms, leaning familiarly against him on stage as Jack began to speak… the devastation that buckled my knees and made me physically ill when Jack announced their engagement. And the final one – Edward standing at the curb, his hand buried in the top of his hair, calling my name as Jasper and I sped away.

Letting my wary gaze land on Rosalie at last, I see her smiling widely at Edward. I don't turn to look at him, but I'm sure he's smiling back at her… his _friend_. For most of the drive here, he encouraged me to give her a chance. I'm not really planning to, but I fake-nodded and reluctantly-agreed my way through the lecture to appease him.

When we get to the table, Edward starts to pull out the chair next to Jasper for me. But I've changed my mind – there's no fucking way I'm letting _him_ sit by her right now. I have enough images of them together running through my brain.

"I'll sit here," I say quietly as I put my hand on the back of the chair next to Rosalie, struggling not to clench my teeth.

Edward doesn't say anything, but he smiles proudly at me as he holds the chair for me. I _almost_ feel guilty, knowing my motives aren't as noble as he believes. I look Rosalie in the eye as I sit down and scoot in, refusing to be intimidated by her again. And I also refuse to smile at her.

"Hi, everybody," I say curtly, turning my attention to the rest of the table. As soon as Edward is seated beside me, I reach toward him; he laces our fingers, squeezing lightly and then resting our joined hands on his leg.

"Hi, Bella," Rosalie says softly from my other side. I guess she didn't get the hint from my earlier glare that I don't want to talk to her.

"Rosalie," I say coolly, turning my head slightly and looking at her from the corner of my eye.

"Thank you for agreeing to come tonight," she continues. "It means a lot to Emmett."

"I'd do almost anything for Emmett," I state quietly, turning all the way toward her. My tone is pleasant, but the look in my eyes is not. I learned this from Mama Whitlock. Joey gets one of these stare downs at almost every family meal.

"You're a very good friend to him, Bella," she says, clearly trying to butter me up now. I turn back around as the server begins pouring the wine, straining not to roll my eyes. I wonder if I can sneak away to the bar. I bite the inside of my cheek as I look around, trying to see if anyone would notice me standing at the bar and knocking back shots.

"You okay?" Edward asks, leaning close to whisper in my ear as he tightens his fingers around mine.

"Yep," I lie succinctly.

"Stel," he says lowly, waiting until I turn his way to say anything else. "I love you."

"I know," I exhale, smiling slightly and leaning toward him. I kiss the corner of his mouth and then sit back up.

Looking to my left, I see Emmett wrap his arm around Rosalie's shoulders and say something quietly to her. I pick up my menu, holding it close to block my view of them, afraid I won't be able to stifle the urge to stick my tongue out at her much longer. We all study the menus for a few minutes, making small talk until the server takes our orders. Then Jasper prods Emmett to tell us about what happened that day at Hale Software when he was hiding from Rosalie in the men's room.

"Well, I was on the phone with Bell. I was pretty freaked to see Rosalie – and to find out who she was," he relates. Then he leans forward to look at Edward. "I thought you two were still engaged."

"They were _never_ engaged," I say, irritation evident in my voice.

Emmett clears his throat uncomfortably. "I didn't know that then," he says softly, pausing to look at me before he continues. "Anyway, I thought I had slept with Edward's fiancée, so I called Bell."

"Because I would have _loved_ to have that information," I say sarcastically as I pick up my wineglass. I take a big drink, swirl the remaining liquid in the glass, and then finish it off. When I set my glass down, Jasper reaches around Edward to fill it again.

Emmett tries again, ignoring my acerbic remark. "So I was talking to B, getting the scoop on the _fake_ engagement," he says, looking at me again, "and the bathroom door suddenly bangs open," he laughs.

"And you squealed like a little girl," I interrupt, not quite able to contain my smirk. That part of the story amuses me, at least. When I look at Emmett, he smiles back at me – my favorite, deep-dimpled, happy-Emmett grin.

"My sister taught me well," he chuckles. "I know when to be brave around a woman and when to cower in fear. The look on Rose's face definitely scared the hell out of me."

Everyone else at the table laughs and I note, grudgingly, that Rosalie blushes slightly and leans into Emmett. And I note that Emmett calls her Rose. And I throw up in my mouth a little. Well, not really, but this seems like a good time to do it.

"He tried to hide in a stall," she interjects, laughing.

"So she went into the one next to me and stood on the toilet seat to yell at me from above," Em says, looking affectionately at her. Shit. I've never seen him look at a woman that way before.

"Alice yelled at me and shoved me the first time I saw her," Jasper remarks, laughing.

"On the day we met, Bella flipped me off in my office and called me an asshole," Edward adds, squeezing my hand and looking at me.

"Semi-asshole," I correct, smiling as I lean over to kiss his cheek. He turns his head so that our lips meet instead. Twice.

"So I ran out of the stall, and she followed me again," Em continues, recapturing everyone's attention. "She cornered me up against the sinks, and I guess I got too close to the sensor that turns the faucet on automatically."

"And it was the sink that has too much water pressure," Rosalie laughs.

"On the eighth floor?" Edward asks, then laughs when she says yes. "That one also doesn't turn off for about five minutes."

"No shit, Edward. I know that now," Emmett replies sarcastically. "The whole time she was yelling at me, the goddamned faucet was spraying cold water all over my ass."

The whole table – me included – erupts in laughter then.

"Finally, I told him he was a stupid jackass and to get out of my sight," Rosalie says, giggling as she looks around the table at us. "I stepped away from him and he started walking out the door, dripping water the whole way."

"What did you do then?" Alice asks excitedly. Jesus. She's practically on the edge of her seat.

"He looked so cute… with his wet butt and squeaky shoes… I didn't feel like I had a choice," she answers quietly, pausing to look at Emmett. "I went after him, grabbed his arm to turn him around, and then jumped into his arms to kiss him."

Alice claps her hands together happily. When she looks at me, I shake my head slightly at her, disgusted. She shrugs. I know she can't help it – she's such a hopeless romantic.

"I wasn't prepared for her to tackle me, so I stumbled backward into the door… just as someone opened it from the other side," Emmett laughs. "So I went down, flat on my back, and Rose fell on top of me and knocked the wind out of me."

"And your hands were on my ass," she reminds him quietly.

"And my hands were on her ass," Emmett laughs. "I also managed to knock down the guy coming into the bathroom."

"Who was my father," Rose finishes, laughing. She blushes so deeply that her blue eyes – the same color as Riley's – stand out even more.

We all laugh as Emmett relates the conversation with Jack that followed, but I quickly get myself back under control. Although it was a funny story, it's going to take more than that to make me like her.

When I look over as Jas, he winks at me for what has to be the seventh time since I got here, prompting me to roll my eyes. I held it in for the last ten minutes. It was going to come out eventually.

"What the hell's wrong with you, twitchy?" I ask testily. He laughs, but Edward looks at me curiously… until Jasper leans over to talk to Edward.

"This is often how Baby Swan disguises her feelings of discomfort. If she's afraid or hiding something, she acts like a bitch," Jas says. Edward nods in understanding. I glare at Jas as he continues. "You should have heard her the night after she met you."

When Jas looks at Emmett for confirmation, Emmett scrunches up his face. "Sorry, Bell. But you were," he agrees hesitantly. "Raging."

Laughing, Jas shifts his eyes to me and has the good sense to recognize the displeased look on my face. He looks at Em again and changes the subject.

"What were you hiding?" Edward asks, leaning close as – thankfully – the table conversation moves on to whatever Jasper's talking about now.

"The way I felt about you," I admit, speaking quietly in his ear. "I… liked you already. I knew it was more than physical attraction."

"I did, too," he smiles, pulling back to look in my eyes. "What are you hiding now?"

"My desire to bludgeon Rosalie," I whisper. When he frowns slightly at me, I backpedal. "I'm trying, okay? For Emmett and for you."

I drink more of my wine and although I still don't talk directly to Rosalie, I am better able to tolerate her. When I excuse myself to go to the ladies' room before dessert, I'm really not surprised that she follows.

She leaves me alone until we're both washing our hands.

"Bella, I want to apologize," she says quietly, meeting my gaze in the mirror, "for my behavior in New York last summer. I was terrible to you."

I nod, not willing to sugarcoat the resentment I feel. "Why?"

She sighs as she opens her small bag and pulls out a lipstick. I do the same. "I knew my dad was getting ready to throw my latest step-mother overboard… and I thought you were the new object of his affection."

"I wasn't," I remark dryly, putting the lid back on my lipstick and tossing it in my bag. "So why did you bring up Edward's old girlfriend… I mean, if you thought I was interested in your dad."

"I didn't say I thought you were interested in my dad. I thought _he_ was interested in _you_," she clarifies, turning to prop a hip against the counter and look at me. I mimic her stance. "You… Edward… you two were easy to read. I could see you had a connection. The way you kept looking at him during your presentation for reassurance… the way he silently gave it every single time. I could tell something was cooking between you."

"Why would you care?" I ask incredulously. "Did you… have feelings for him?"

"No! No! God, no," she exclaims, laughing. "He's not my type at all. It was about protecting the company. I didn't know if you were playing games with my dad… with Edward. I wanted you gone."

"I wasn't playing games," I say quietly, dropping my eyes to the floor. "I like and admire Jack very much, but there was never anything else… even after Edward and I broke things off."

"I know that now," she nods. "When Edward and I spent all that time together, he talked about you constantly. He was so annoyingly in love with you."

I lift my eyes back up and she nods.

"For what it's worth," she continues softly, "I did try to convince him to tell you what was going on. He just… he was afraid James would hurt you."

"I know. He told me. Thank you for helping him with James," I say, feeling like I owe her at least that. "That took balls – going against your family that way."

"James has been a creep his whole life," she says, shaking his head. "My dad treated him like a son… and this is how James repaid him. But even _I_ wasn't convinced that James was this evil… until he threatened Alice and Riley… and you. And until Edward heard from a business associate that James was shopping our billion-dollar software on the black market."

"At least he's in jail," I offer.

"For now," she hedges. "He's pretty slippery. He'll probably weasel out of hard time somehow. But my dad is going to try and get him to sever his parental rights to Riley before he gets a plea deal."

"That's good," I nod. "Have you met Riley?"

"No," she says, swallowing loudly. "Edward wanted to wait until Alice was comfortable with me. I hope I've won her over a little tonight… and you, too." Her eyes look a little watery, but I'm determined to remain detached.

"Alice is great," I remark casually.

"Edward showed me some video of Riley on his phone a few weeks ago," she continues, smiling and sniffling. "She's beautiful and smart and funny." Oh, crap. She's found my Achilles' heel. I can still be a bitch to her if she likes my boyfriend and best friend, but if she loves Riley, I'm screwed.

"She's a great kid," I agree, not able to contain my smile. "Everyone loves her."

"I know you're very protective of Emmett," she says quietly, taking a step closer to me. "And he is of you, too. I know he values your opinion, so I hope you'll give me a chance to prove that I really care about him."

"I'm not sure yet how I feel about you, Rosalie," I say, even though I'm starting to think that we're more similar than different, at least in fiercely protecting the people and things we love. "But Edward and Emmett both like you and so I'd like to get to know you… have you get to know me. Deal?"

I take a deep breath and hold out my hand toward her.

"Deal," she answers, taking my hand and shaking it firmly. "You know what a great way to get to know someone is?" Her blue eyes shine mischievously.

Smirking at her, I nod. "Drink martinis and talk about boys?"

"That's exactly what I was going to say," she laughs. "Come on. The first round's on me."

"Sounds good," I reply.

Crap. I'm kind of starting to like her.

* * *

During the next two weeks, things between Edward and me continue to smooth out. We don't spend the night together every night – mostly because he's out of town for a few of them – but we talk every day. And I went with him to tell Jack about us. Jack was pleased. Edward sat on the couch with me when I gave my dad the news… he was less amenable than Jack. But I think he'll come around.

Other parts of my life have settled back into the old routine as well. My boys and I have resumed our Thursday night dinners… and expanded them to include Edward and Alice. Thankfully, Rosalie has been in New York, so I haven't had to face my warring emotions about her. I ended up having fun with her the night we were all at dinner, but I'm still reserving judgment until I know her better. I guess if there's no break up before Rosalie moves here in June, I'll have to tolerate her at the very least. I might end up liking her, but that will definitely piss me off since I've spent so long hating her.

This weekend, the third one since we returned from Florida, Edward and I put our deal back in place – up early to run on Saturdays and sleeping in on Sundays. So we ran this morning… so my legs are wobbly now that we're done.

"I am out of shape," I complain, collapsing onto Ned's couch as soon as we come in the front door.

"You did fine, Stel," he argues, walking past me to the kitchen. "Maybe you're tired because I wore you out last night."

"I thought _I_wore _you_ out last night," I call loudly, smiling when I'm rewarded with his laugh from the other room.

"It was a mutual effort," he says as he comes back into the living room. "Agreed?"

"Agreed," I smile, sitting up and taking the bottle of water he hands me. "When is Riley coming over?"

"Couple of hours," he answers, sitting down next to me.

"I have to go home and get pajamas," I remark, looking over at him.

"No, you don't," he smirks as he leans his head against the back of the couch and props his feet on the coffee table.

"I'm not falling for that again," I reply, nudging him with my elbow. "She just about caught us naked last weekend. Tonight we are keeping our clothes _on_, mister."

"All right, all right," he says. "Hurry though, okay?"

"Okay. I'll be back in twenty minutes," I answer, kissing him quickly as I stand.

When I get home, the phone is ringing. It rings again. And again. Frowning since Jasper's car is here, but he's not answering the phone, I rush to the kitchen. No one ever calls us on the landline and as I pick it up, I don't even think to look at the caller ID.

"H'lo?" I say into the receiver, breathless from dashing into the kitchen. I set my keys and cell phone down on the counter.

"Well, it's about damn time," Mama Whitlock says indignantly. "I was beginning to think that Seattle had fallen plumb into the ocean."

"Hi there, Mama," I laugh, hopping up to sit on the counter and kicking my shoes off. "How are you and Big Daddy?"

"How are we? I'll tell you how we are, little miss," she says sternly. "We are tired of being avoided like yesterday's washing by our two youngest."

"Jasper and Joey are avoiding you?" I ask, puzzled.

"No, Jasper and _you_ are avoiding us," she says, sounding annoyed. I gulp. I've never been on the receiving end of one of these chastisements before. "Neither of you has returned our phone calls for over a week."

"I'm sorry, Mama," I mumble, picking my cell phone up from the counter beside me. I type out a text to Jasper.

***Get your freaking ass to the kitchen!**

"You should be sorry," she insists. "Thoughtless children, the both of you! Why, Big Daddy's been worried to death that somethin' terrible happened up there."

I stifle the urge to giggle. "Everything's fine, Mama. We've just been busy," I say, trying to soothe her.

"Mmm-hmm. You've both got some explaining to do," she continues. "My middle child never fails to call his Mama every Sunday evening. Apparently the phones in Florida are still working fine. He had quite the story to tell three weeks ago."

Gulping again, I type another text to Jas.

***I mean it. RIGHT NOW!**

"Can you guess who the main character was in the tale Jeremy told me three weeks ago?"

"Me?" I ask meekly.

"Mmm-hmm. And at Thanksgiving, I believe I gave you strict instructions to let me know when that not-too-sharp ex-beau of yours came a-lookin' to get back what he lost. Did I not?"

"You did," I admit quietly. As if she's standing right in front of me, I lower my eyes to the ground and feel my face heat in shame.

"Am I to understand, Bella, that you've taken the boy back?"

"Yes, ma'am," I answer, looking up when I finally see Jasper walk into the kitchen, looking worried and freshly showered.

"What's wrong?" he mouths.

"I'm gonna kill you," I mouth in reply as he comes to stand in front of me. Then I point at the phone. "Your mama." He turns and tries to run away, but I grab the back of his t-shirt, pulling him back and then wrapping my legs around his torso from behind so he can't get away.

Mama's going on and on about groveling and lily-livered jackasses. Finally, she pauses. "You're happy?" she asks, her tone quieter.

"Yes, ma'am," I answer.

"And what's this I hear about Jasper dating the sister? And she has a daughter? Is all that true as well?" she asks, her volume increasing again.

"Yes, Mama," I say, releasing Jasper when he turns around. He probably heard her say his name. "Alice… and Riley."

"Jasper is happy?" she asks.

"Yes, ma'am. He's happier than I've ever seen him."

"Well, that settles it then," she says. She puts Big Daddy on the phone to scold me a little more, but he's not nearly as frightening. At first. When I try to put Jas on the phone, Big Daddy says that's not necessary… then scares the hell out of me before we hang up.

In a daze, I mumble a goodbye and push the off button on the cordless phone, then set it down on the counter. When I look up at Jas, his Texas skies are searching my face intently.

"What?" he asks. "Are they mad?"

"Yeah, they're mad," I nod. "We're both in trouble."

Backing away from me, he chuckles a little. "Well, luckily they live several states away. They'll be over it by the time we head down for Thanksgiving…what's that? Seven months?"

"No, Jas," I whisper, slowly shaking my head.

"Oh, right. Eight," he says.

"No, Jas. Not eight months. Five days," I mutter. Jasper's eyes widen as understanding dawns on him. "Mama and Big Daddy are coming to Seattle."

* * *

**Thanks for reading... please review!**


	25. Who's Your Mama?

**A/N: Hello again! I don't know how the heck this chapter ended up being so long, so I'll keep it short up here.**

**Big thanks to my beta, Windgirl810. She's clever and helps make the jibberish that I send her readable. :)**

**Three great friends preread this chapter:**

**littlecat358 who helps in so many different ways that I couldn't possibly list them! :)**

**tennesseelamb calms me, corrects me, and shares details that might be considered oversharing by anyone else, but not me! :) **

**Michelle0526 cheers me up every day and deciphers the ridiculous texts I send. :)**

**I love all of you! :)**

**Thanks, Erron, for being a great (and patient) friend! **

**Kassiah and Caren, thanks for all the love. I'm indebted to both of you. **

**That's it... thanks for reading.**

* * *

BPOV

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" I mutter. "Where is the goddamned corkscrew?" While I rummage through the utensil drawer with one hand, I use the other to pick up a long-handled wooden spoon and stir the pasta cooking on top of the stove. After tapping the spoon on the side of the pot, I set it down and immediately pick up the spoon beside it to stir the sauce simmering on the next burner.

"Come on… come on," I mumble, sparing a glance at the clock. "They'll be here in twenty minutes and I _need_ wine." I leave the spoon in the sauce and turn my full attention to the drawer.

"A-ha!"

Picking up the corkscrew, I hold it lovingly to my chest and then move to the adjacent counter to open the cabernet.

"It's just Mama and Big Daddy," I whisper to myself, pulling the tiny knife down to slice through the foil cap on the bottle. While I twist the metal spiral into the cork, I whisper the words again, hoping my mantra is successful in calming my nerves. I repeat the refrain over and over as I hook the notch onto the lip of the bottle and pull the handle, sighing in relief as the cork begins to slide up.

And then it stops.

"Dammit! This is why I have my boys!"

But none of my boys are here. Frustrated but determined, I pick up the bottle and wedge it between my legs, gripping it tightly with my thighs.

"It's just… Mama… and Big," I grunt lowly as I grasp the neck of the bottle with one hand, pulling the handle of the corkscrew with the other, "…Daddy." Finally, the cork comes loose with a soft pop. Laughing lightly in relief, I put the bottle back on the counter and twist the cork off the spiral.

After pouring myself a generous glass of the dark, red wine, I take two quick sips, and then drain the pasta. I take another long swallow, and then toss the pasta with the spicy vodka sauce I made. Finally, I lean back against the counter and fan my warm face with a potholder as I finish off the liquid in my glass. Once I catch my breath, I pour another half glass, and then call Edward.

"Hi, Stel," he chuckles. "Hanging in there? You made it fifteen minutes between phone calls this time."

"Don't laugh at me, Ned," I warn him, frowning even though he can't see me. "This will be _you_ tomorrow night."

"Sorry, sorry," he apologizes, but I can tell he's still quietly snickering.

"I wish you were going to be here tonight," I whine. "What time does your flight arrive tomorrow?"

"Around four," he replies.

"And you'll be here at six?" I ask… for the third time today.

"Yes, baby," he says, his velvet voice calming me… until he continues. "Unless the plane is late."

"Edward," I say, hearing a note of hysteria creep into my voice. "Mama Whitlock does not allow guests to be late for dinner."

He laughs loudly this time, assuming I'm joking. I'm _so_ not joking. "What if there's bad weather? What if the pilot is drunk? What do you expect me to do? Fly the plane myself?"

"Yes!" I exclaim. Oh, good. My voice is high-pitched and screechy. The panic is on full display.

"Baby, why are you so freaked out?" he asks, his voice quiet and concerned. "You've told me again and again that these people love you like a daughter."

"They _do_ love _me_, Edward," I say… whining again. "But I want them to love _you_, _too_."

That's true, but it really doesn't account for the swarm of crazy butterflies fluttering in my stomach right now. I've struggled all afternoon to understand why the arrival of two people I love like parents has sent me into such a tailspin.

"Bella, I'll be there," he says soothingly. "And I'll do everything I can to make them like me, okay?"

"Promise? Impeccable manners and semi-asshole charm on full display?" I ask as my lips curl into a smirk.

"I promise."

Finally, I take a deep breath and smile into the phone. "Okay," I say as I glance at the clock on the stove. "I gotta go. Jas will be here from the airport any minute. Call me in the morning?"

"Sure. It'll have to be early your time," he cautions. "I have a nine o'clock meeting."

"Nevermind," I reply, laughing. "Text me instead."

"I will. Bye, Stel. I love you," he says quietly.

"Love you, too," I answer, feeling more composed as I set my phone down… until I hear a car outside: They're here. Picking up my forgotten, half-full wineglass, I chug it, and then set it in the sink. "It's just Mama and Big Daddy. It's just Mama and Big Daddy." I repeat the words as I walk through my living room.

Plastering a wide smile on my face, I open the front door in time to see Big Daddy climb out of the passenger seat. I wave to him and watch Jas open the back door on his side for Mama to get out, but I'm surprised to see someone emerging from the other side of the backseat. I gasp excitedly as I realize who it is.

"There she is… my future wife," Joey says, his eyes shining as he looks at me. "Get your ass over here, sugar."

Laughing hard, I bend forward at the waist for a moment, and then skip down the porch steps toward them. Big Daddy waits at the end of the sidewalk, smiling at me and removing his black cowboy hat as I approach.

"Well, if you aren't a sight for sore eyes! How's the prettiest girl west of the Rio Grande?" he says.

"I don't know how she is, but _I'm_ fine, Big Daddy," I answer as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. Behind him, Jas is helping Mama out of the car. The sight of her makes me nervous all over again, so I squeeze my eyes shut. "I'm so sorry I didn't call."

"Now, hush," he replies quietly, pulling back slightly. Reluctantly, I open my eyes and let them settle on his face, so similar to Jasper's despite the difference in years. "You know I'm not the one with the ruffled feathers. But Mama's been having a hissy fit and steppin' in it for two weeks waitin' for you two to call. Her nose is so far outta joint that if she took a deep breath through it, air would come a-whistlin' out her ears."

We both laugh… until we hear Mama's stern order. "William Whitlock, let that girl go. I want to see her."

"She's really angry, huh?" I whisper soberly.

He pats my back a little harder than necessary before he releases me, nudging me toward her. "Don't you worry. You just lay that natural sweetness of yours on extra thick, and she'll be over it in two shakes."

"Hi, Mama," I say, looking down at the ground. She hugs me tightly, like always. "I'm really sorry."

"Of course you are. Remorse almost always follows reprimand," she says bluntly, but her tone is nicer than it was when she spoke to Big Daddy. She rears back to look at me, her hands cupping the sides of my face. "You look happy."

"I am," I smile.

"You smell like a wino," she states flatly. "Did you drink the whole bottle or is there enough for me to have a glass, too?"

"I just had a little, Mama," I laugh. "There's plenty left."

"Let's go in then," she smiles, looping her arm through mine as we walk toward the house. "I declare, Bella, you'll catch your death running around out here without a coat." She clucks her tongue at me while I mumble another apology.

She helps me finish dinner while the men take the luggage upstairs. Just as we're setting food on the table, I hear the sound of boots on the hardwood floor and turn to see Joey walking in.

"I haven't had a proper greeting from the hostess," he teases.

"Hey, Joey. I didn't know you were coming," I say, hugging him, and then laughing when he dips me backward over his arm.

"I decided to surprise you and my baby brother. Now, where's the jackass who made you go twelve rounds with the punching bag at Thanksgiving?" he asks as he pulls me back up.

"New York. You'll meet him tomorrow," I answer. Then I stage whisper the next part. "Plus, Mama requested that there not be any _outsiders_ here tonight. I think she's gonna yell at your brother and me."

"Sugar, Mama doesn't need to yell," he stage whispers back. "She can put you on the ground with a raised eyebrow and her pinky."

We both laugh and Joey pats my lower back and kisses the top of my head.

"Watch your hands, Joey," Jasper teases as he walks in. "Nowadays I'm not the only one who'll clock you for inappropriate ass touching."

"There's nothing inappropriate about the way I would touch her ass," Joey argues conceitedly. "I'm an expert fondler."

Rolling my eyes, I pull away and step around him to get the bottle of wine from the counter. "You've never even _tried_ to fondle me, inappropriately or otherwise," I say as I set the bottle on the table. "I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted."

"Bella," Joey drawls seriously, but his hazel eyes are shining with mischief, "I would never insult you. You're my favorite future wife."

"How many of us are there?" I tease, straight-faced.

"You're the only one that matters," he replies, winking at me.

"Joseph Wesley Whitlock, are you going to flirt with Bella all night or may we eat now?" Mama asks exasperatedly. But when I turn to look at her, she's smiling.

"Why do I have to stop flirting in order to eat supper, Mama?" he asks, pulling out a chair for her to sit in. "Some of my best work has been done at the table… or on it."

"Jesus, Joey," Jasper groans, waiting until Mama and I are seated before dropping into the chair next to me. "Way to ruin my fucking appetite."

"That's enough, boys," Big Daddy says firmly, silencing them as he sits down at the head of the table. "Let's say grace."

After we join hands and bow our heads, Big Daddy says the blessing, giving thanks for the food and family at the table. Without raising my head, I lift my eyes and stealthily look at the people around me – they're my true family. Though I love my dad, and deep down, I love my mom, too, we never had this – the fun, the teasing, the closeness. The fear of punishment.

Wait – punishment? It suddenly dawns on me that I'm not only nervous for them to like Ned… I'm also afraid I'm in big trouble with them. And I've never really been in much trouble with my parents before. My mom either ignored me or didn't care when I misbehaved. My dad was the freaking chief of police in the town where I spent my teen years – and I was consequently left out of most activities that could get me in trouble. My high school friends didn't drink or smoke anything except cigarettes, and my boyfriend was a nice guy. I even got good grades. The worst thing I did while I lived at home was talk snottily to my dad… and I rarely did that.

So I'd never been grounded… never had more than a lecture from my dad. And I'm a little terrified about what's in store for me after dinner. This feels like the calm before the storm.

When everyone says "Amen" and looks up, I smile at Mama, who's sitting directly across from me, trying to gauge her mood. She smiles back, looking warmly at me… for now.

* * *

Over the next hour, I try to relax as we sit at the table eating and talking. Joey catches Jas up on all the latest news about their high school buddies; Big Daddy fills us in on the drought and the cattle; Mama brags about the grandkids.

As we're eating our dessert, Mama looks across the table at me and smiles slightly. "Bella, you know that William and I love you and think of you just like one of our own – no disrespect to your parents," she begins.

"Yes, Mama. I love you, too," I reply, smiling back at her.

She nods her approval before her mouth settles into a grim line. "Joey, I need my handbag. I jotted down a few things during the plane ride," she says, turning to look at him.

I pick up my fork and drag it through the icing on the half-eaten piece of cake in front of me, then lift it to my mouth. While I'm still licking the chocolate frosting off the tines, Mama takes a small notebook out of her purse. After flipping it open, she sets a pencil down beside it and then slides her reading glasses on.

"Uh oh," Jas whispers from beside me. "She's serious if she's wearing her specs. We're gonna need more than cake." He reaches for the wine to refill my glass and then gets up, walking to the liquor cabinet and returning with a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. He pours a little in each glass, then slides one to Big Daddy and one to Joey. He keeps the third and lifts it in the air. "Mama, here's to your Table of Terror. Please go easy on Bella. She's a virgin."

We all touch glasses and drink. Big Daddy winks and smiles affectionately at me as he sets his glass down. Mama's busy reading through her notebook.

"How many times has she made you cry during one of these interrogations?" Joey asks, looking at Jasper.

Crying? There's going to be crying? My stomach flops nervously. I glance at Mama, see her frown, and quickly look away.

"More times than I'd care to admit," Jas answers dryly. "Wonder who cried the most?"

"Jeremy. Hands down," Joey answers. "He was the first to figure out that tears of repentance were the fastest route out of Mama's doghouse."

Across from me, Mama is smirking, but she quickly recovers, looking serious again and clearing her throat to recapture our attention.

"Bella, would you like to tell us about your trip to Jeremy and Scott's?" She asks the question genially, but there's no mistaking her meaning. It's not a question. It's a directive.

Eager to please her, eager for her to like Edward, I recount the first few days of my trip – my night with Brady, the mysterious phone call Jer received, the sudden realization in front of Kelly's Bar that Edward had come to see me.

"Mighty romantic gesture," Big Daddy interjects, smiling at me.

"Boy's got to be in love with her," Joey adds, winking when I mouth my thanks to him.

"Well, of course he's in love with her!" Mama declares. "Who wouldn't fall in love with her?"

"My idiot baby brother," Joey says with a laugh. Jas and I laugh, too, as we exchange a look.

"We're too good as friends to screw it up with romance and sex," Jas remarks, extending his arm around the back of my chair. "Right, Baby Swan?"

"Right," I agree. After taking a sip of my wine, I continue my tale. "Edward asked to speak to me… and Jer and Scott wouldn't let me run away. So, we sat down and started talking… and that's when he told me that he wasn't engaged to –."

"You thought he was engaged?" Mama interrupts, picking up her pencil.

"Oh, shit," Jas mumbles beside me as Mama writes in her notebook. Unnerved by Jasper's comment, I whip my head to the right to look at him as he shifts his hand from the back of my chair to my shoulder, rubbing reassuringly. When he looks at me, the uncertain half-smile on his face does nothing to quell my runaway panic.

Swallowing loudly, I turn back to Mama, still bent over her paper. "Well, yes, but –," I answer hesitantly.

"Why did you think he was engaged?" she asks without glancing up.

"They, um, announced it at the, um, Hale Software Christmas party, but it was –," I stammer.

"Jasper," Mama interrupts again, stilling her pencil and fixing her stare on Jas, "did you know that this boy was engaged? And you still sent him to Bella?"

I lift my glass and swallow steadily until half the wine is gone.

"Mama, it's not the way it sounds. It's complicated and –," Jas explains.

"It wasn't… he didn't –," I defend, interrupting Jas… then Mama lifts both hands, palms out. We both fall silent immediately.

"Hush, both of you. Quit trying to rationalize his actions," she commands. Then she shifts as if she's deciding something. "I'd rather hear the explanation from the horse's mouth, thank you."

We stay quiet as Mama writes in her notebook again. The only sounds are the quiet scratching of her pencil on the paper and the sound of more whiskey and wine being poured for the rest of us.

"What else happened in Key West, Bella?" Joey asks a minute later, smiling encouragingly at me.

I tell them how Edward and I talked, spent time together, and eventually reconciled. For good measure, I toss in some comments about how helpful Jer and Scott were in pushing me along, and how much they both liked Edward. I see a flicker of pleasure cross Mama's face before she settles back into her stone-faced countenance.

"You're in love with this boy? Despite the fact that he broke your heart?" she asks.

"I am, Mama," I say, breathing through the quick slice of pain I feel when I remember the ways we hurt each other. "I made mistakes, too."

She nods knowingly, and even though she's not smiling, her eyes are warmer when they meet mine.

"So you've been too distracted by this boy to call me back, despite the fact that I've left no less than four voice messages on your phone?" she asks, quirking one eyebrow at me.

"Basically, yes," I reply, exhaling in relief when that seems to satisfy her.

"What does your father think of this boy?" she asks offhandedly. But I'm not fooled; nothing Mama Whitlock says is really offhand.

"Uh, he doesn't really talk about his feelings," I hedge, not wanting to tell her that Charlie hasn't completely forgiven Ned yet. "He liked Edward very much when they met last fall."

Mama hmms and lifts one eyebrow, but doesn't press me on that issue. She pauses to take a bite of her cake as she reads through her notes again, plunging us into silence once more. I bite my lip nervously; Big Daddy swirls the whiskey in his glass; Jasper and Joey mouth insults to each other and try not to laugh out loud.

"Well, I guess that about does it for you, Bella," she pronounces, smiling at me. "However, tomorrow night, I will expect to hear about how he ended up engaged to someone else."

Once I agree, she shifts her attention – and piercing gaze – to Jasper. I slump back in my chair, finally relaxing as Jas begins his description of how he and Alice met. Jasper is an expert at handling his mama, and talks himself out of trouble fairly quickly. His inquisition doesn't last nearly as long as mine, and ends with him promising that Alice – and Riley – will be here to meet them tomorrow night. Then, like the suck up he is, he pulls out his phone, where he just happens to have about a hundred pictures of a really cute five year-old. Mama is disarmed immediately. Jesus, where we these pictures when _I_ was on the hot seat?

When we get up a few minutes later, Mama shoos the boys out of the kitchen. "If we do the dishes now, we can make them clean up tomorrow night," she whispers conspiratorially to me once they're gone.

She chatters nonstop as we clean up, her feathers apparently smoothed back down for the moment. On the other hand, I'm still a wreck. But Mama doesn't appear to notice that I'm barely responding to her; my comments are monosyllabic, and I only chuckle half-heartedly at her funny stories. After I've dried and put away the last pot, I turn and find her watching me, studying me quizzically.

"All right, sweet pea. Spit it out," she says, draping a dish towel over her shoulder after she wipes her hands. "You're as nervous as a two-dollar whore in church. What's the matter?"

I shrug… shuffle my feet. But when Mama huffs at me, I know I'm not going to get out of answering. "I'm scared about tomorrow night," I admit reluctantly. "I think you'll like Edward… but I'm afraid you're going to be mean to him."

"Mean to him?" she gasps, pressing a hand to her chest. "Was I mean to you this evening?"

"Noooo," I say slowly, dragging the word out. "But the boys were talking earlier about how many times you made them cry at your Table of Terror."

She laughs a little before pulling me to the table to sit down. "Sweet pea, I have five sons, none of whom I'd trade for anything. But as teenagers, those boys engaged in so much tomfoolery that half the folks in Grayson County _still_ won't speak to me," she explains. "Yes, I occasionally sat them down and yelled at them. If, per chance, one of them cried during that process, then that was a side bonus."

"Mama!" I exclaim, but I can't help laughing a little.

"Someday when you have teenagers of your own, you'll understand," she manages to say through her own laughter. When we both settle down, she reaches for my hand. "I don't expect to make Edward cry tomorrow night, but if you think he's too much of a coward to answer for his behavior, then I'll leave it alone." She raises her eyebrow at me daringly.

"He's not a coward!"

"Good," Mama nods. "Then he'll have no problem talking to me," she pronounces.

I nod, too, but look down at my hands, picking at my fingernails.

"Bella," she says, waiting until I look up at her to continue. "I just want to talk to him… look in his eyes and see that he loves you. You have my word that I will not make it too unpleasant. All right?"

"All right," I agree, taking a deep breath. "I really am sorry that I ignored you."

"Now, now. You're forgiven," she answers frankly, reaching for my hand. "Families are all about unconditional love. And you, love, are family."

Tears spring to my eyes immediately, and she leans forward to hug me, murmuring soothing phrases like "hush, now" and "Mama's here". When I'm calmer, it occurs to me that I've called her Mama since the first time I met her almost six years ago, but tonight is the first time that I've really wished she _was_ my mother. I've never had anything even close to this kind of a relationship with Renee.

Pulling back from her embrace, I wipe my cheeks and smile at her. "This is becoming a habit of mine… crying in the kitchen with you," I remark sardonically.

"Well, let's break that habit right now," she declares. She takes the towel down from her shoulder, smoothing it out and folding it in front of us. Then she leans toward me with the same gleam in her eyes that her sons get when they're up to something. "Jeremy wouldn't let Scott tell me about the night he and Edward got drunk in Key West. How about filling me in?"

By the time I get in bed two hours later – after telling the story twice because the men heard us laughing in the kitchen and came to see what was so funny – I'm feeling much better. When I get to my room, I pull my phone from my pocket, eager to see if Edward sent me a text. I felt my phone vibrate several hours ago, but didn't dare check while sitting at Mama's table… well, Jasper's table. But everyone knows if Mama's sitting at it, it's _her_ table. And she detests anyone checking messages on cell phones in her presence.

Smiling, I sink down on the bed to read what Edward wrote. It's short. It's sweet. I send a reply so he'll see it when he wakes up.

***Miss you, too. I love you, Ned.**

* * *

When the doorbell rings a little after five the next evening, I frown. It's too early for Edward to arrive. Jasper just left to pick up Alice and Riley, so it's not them. No one else is invited tonight. I peek into the living room as the doorbell sounds again, but Joey and Big Daddy aren't sitting on the couch where they were a few minutes ago.

"It's rude to leave a visitor standing outside in the rain, sweet pea," Mama chides without turning away from the stove where she's cooking my favorite dinner: fried chicken. "You'd best answer the door."

"Yes, ma'am," I say, setting down the knife I was using to peel potatoes. Anxious to stay on her good side, I rush through the living room. As I approach the door, I peek through the window – I can't see who's standing at the door, but I recognize the truck parked at the curb and yank the door open excitedly. "Dad! What are you doing here?"

"Mrs. Whitlock asked me to dinner," he replies as I wrap my arms around his waist. He hugs me back, kissing the side of my head, not letting go until I pull away and let him enter the house. "You look good, Bella. Nice to see that big smile on your face again."

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" I ask, ignoring his commentary on my sadness during the holidays.

"Mrs. Whitlock suggested I surprise you," he answers, removing his coat. Narrowing my eyes, I reach for his jacket and walk to the closet to hang it up. I just bet that Mama suggested he surprise me. She's stacking the deck in her favor tonight. "Where is Edward? That boy and I have some things to get straight."

"He'll be here soon, Dad," I answer, turning to face him. "But you and Mama Whitlock are absolutely not going to gang up on him."

My dad's grin is quick and his brown eyes shine as he answers me. "Don't get so testy. I didn't bring my gun inside… yet." He laughs as I glare at him.

When Jasper arrives a few minutes later with Alice and Riley, the rest of the Whitlocks reappear to meet them. Although Alice seems nervous at first, she calms down quickly, and by the time she makes her first smartass remark to Joey, I can see that Mama likes her. Of course, Riley charms everyone, and has Joey and my dad talked into playing Candy Land within a few minutes.

At one minute to six, the doorbell rings again. This time, I race for the door.

"I got it," I call, pausing briefly to look at Joey and my dad who are sitting on the couch, still playing games with Riley. "Behave. Both of you."

When I open the door, I jump into Edward's arms, causing him to grunt and stumble back a step, apparently unprepared for my enthusiastic greeting. He chuckles quietly.

"Hi, Stel." His voice is quiet as he speaks into my ear.

"Ned," I sigh, inhaling his scent. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too, baby," he says, wrapping his arms a little more tightly around my back.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, rearing back to look at him.

"Sorry for what?" he asks, puzzled.

"Hello… Edward," my dad says from behind me. Edward's eyes leave mine immediately and shoot to my father.

"Mr. Swan… Chief Swan… Charlie," he says as he sets me down roughly, hardly pausing to make sure I'm steady on my feet before he steps away from me. "I didn't know you were coming tonight."

"Neither did I," I mutter, glaring at my dad.

"Couldn't pass up the opportunity to see everyone," Charlie asserts, stepping farther onto the porch to shake Edward's extended hand. After a minute of their small talk, I turn to my dad.

"Dad, could Edward and I have a minute? We haven't seen each other all week," I plead. He stalls a little longer, but finally acquiesces, stepping back inside and shutting the door.

Standing in the middle of the porch, I wrap my arms around Ned's neck again and mumble into his chest, "They're gonna be mean to us."

"Look at me," Edward orders quietly, placing his hands lightly on my hips, waiting until I look up at him before he says any more. "It's okay. I love you and that's not going to change just because I'm going to face some tough questions from the Whitlocks and your dad."

"We'll get through it?" I ask. I know the answer, but I want reassurance.

"We will," he confirms, then finally leans down. Digging one hand into the back of his hair, I press my lips against his impatiently, kissing him several times and then sliding my tongue along his bottom lip. But instead of responding, he pulls away and opens his eyes. "Stel, I can't make out with you when your dad is right on the other side of that door."

I chuckle as I look up at him, dropping my arms from around his neck. "Yeah. Probably not the best idea," I agree. "My dad never leaves home without his gun." After I hear him swallow, I laugh harder and open the door, pulling him inside behind me.

* * *

Just like last night, Mama is pleasant all through dinner… until dessert.

"How do you find the pie, Edward?" she asks sweetly.

"It's delicious, ," he replies with his mouth full – as I instructed. At Mama's table, guests are allowed to disregard polite table manners if they're complimenting her cooking.

She smiles widely at him, but I notice that she's no longer eating her pie. "Joey, I need my handbag," she says, positioning her reading glasses, which had been hanging from a chain around her neck, on the end of her nose. "Jasper, you may as well fetch the whiskey now."

As Joey hands Mama her purse, Jasper whispers something to him from his other side. Joey nods, then immediately turns to Riley.

"Hey, Riley," he drawls. "You promised to play the Wii with me after dinner, remember?"

"Yeah!" she answers excitedly getting down from her chair. "Jasper's Wii is in the basement and he has a bunch of good games. But my mommy says I can't play Call of Duty any more, and you're not allowed to cuss in front of me. But you can say moron 'cause Jasper says it's okay as long as it's true."

"Got it," Joey laughs as he follows Riley to the door leading downstairs.

"Jasper was playing Call of Duty with her?" Edward whispers, looking at me and frowning.

"No," I scoff. "_Emmett_ was playing Call of Duty with her."

"And calling people morons?"

"Uh, I think that's what Jasper was calling Emmett when he found out what they were playing in the basement," I say, trying not to laugh.

Mama clears her throat to get our attention. "All right, Edward," she begins. "I've got a few things to ask you."

To his credit, Edward doesn't flinch under Mama's unyielding gaze, and he doesn't take more than a sip of the whiskey Jas pours for him. He answers every question she asks, looking apologetically at Alice a couple of times when he talks about Jamie.

"Why didn't you go to the police, son?" my dad asks after Edward tells them about the pictures of Alice, Riley and me that Jamie sent.

"I did eventually, but I didn't have any proof at first, Charlie. If I had gone to the police then, James would have known I was coming after him. I wasn't sure what he would do… and I wasn't willing to risk it," Edward explains. "I felt like I didn't have any choice except to make myself his target."

He explains the plan he carried out early last fall, detailing the way he pulled away from his family – and from me – to keep Jamie's focus on himself. Even though I know what Edward did and understand why he did it, hearing him talk so frankly about it ties my stomach in knots. Sliding my chair closer to his, I put my arm around him and rub his back gently.

Mama isn't taking notes anymore. She's listening intently to Edward, clucking her tongue about some of the things James said and did… and I see tears well in her eyes more than once.

Before Edward has a chance to explain about the fake engagement, the doorbell rings. As I start to stand, Jasper does, too.

"I'll get it, Baby Swan," he says. "It's probably Emmett and Rosalie. He said they might stop by to see Mama and Big Daddy."

I sit back down and turn toward Edward. "Rosalie's in town _again_?"

"Yeah. She flew in this afternoon with me," he says. Sighing heavily, I roll my eyes and lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. He looks over at me, his brow slightly furrowed. "I thought she was growing on you."

Yeah, like a freaking fungus… spreading into every corner of my life.

"I'm trying, Edward," I whisper sharply, just as Jasper comes back into the kitchen, followed by Emmett and Rosalie.

When Rosalie says hi to me, I force myself to reply with a smile. I don't huff when Mama prods me to get up and serve pie to the new guests… or when Mama insists they sit down and Rosalie does… in _my_ chair right next to _my_ boyfriend. Emmett takes Joey's empty seat, leaving Riley's chair for me.

Irritated, I'm barely listening as Mama quizzes Rosalie, subjecting her to several questions about how she and Emmett met. Looking down at my fingers in my lap, I successfully keep myself from making faces when Rosalie giggles about seeing Emmett again in the Hale Software boardroom.

"He looked like he'd seen a ghost when I walked into the room. And then when I introduced myself, he practically curled into a fetal position," she says.

"That's true," Emmett agrees with a laugh. "But that's because I knew you were engaged to Edward."

"Pardon me?" Mama interjects, surprise evident in her tone. Edward hadn't told Mama that part of his story yet. "Rosalie, _you_ are the co-worker Edward was engaged to?"

"They were _never _engaged," I grumble, sparing a glance at Mama before looking down again. "Why do I have to keep pointing that out to everyone?"

Emmett chuckles quietly beside me, but reaches over to squeeze my shoulder gently. He keeps his arm around me as Rosalie talks, and I look up and smile supportively at Edward. Rosalie backs up his story down to the smallest detail, which seems to satisfy Mama, but a quick peek at my dad tells me he's got something to say.

"Edward, you found it easy to break things off with Bella in favor of this false relationship with Rosalie," he says. "If the situation was too dangerous for Bella, why wasn't it too dangerous for Rosalie?"

"It was, Charlie. I told Rosalie from the beginning that I'd understand if she didn't want to be involved," Edward replies, his honest green gaze meeting my father's skeptical brown one. "And there was nothing easy about being away from Bella."

"Yet you succeeded in staying away from her. You even announced your engagement while she was in the room," Charlie says gruffly. I slide my narrowed eyes to Jasper, who has the decency to look sheepishly back at me, silently confirming that he's the big mouth who told my dad that little tidbit. I never mentioned the party to Charlie at all.

"Mr. Swan, Edward was devastated that Bella was at the party. Neither of us knew that my father had invited her," Rosalie insists fervently, drawing my attention – and eyes – back to her.

"Rosalie," Edward begins.

"No, Edward. They're not being fair to you," she declares, turning to look at him. "They're acting like you're the bad guy here."

"That's my girl," Emmett whispers in my ear… disgustingly proudly.

"I never said Edward was the bad guy. It just seems like there might have been a better way to catch this James fellow… a way where Bella didn't get hurt," my dad says accusingly.

Pissed off, I open my mouth to protest, but Rosalie beats me to the punch, staring icily across the table at my dad.

"With all due respect, sir, Edward's main concern was that James not get near Bella, or Alice and Riley. His biggest motivation was that they not be hurt," she says, then pauses to glance at Edward. "He's a good man, and he became my friend, which isn't easy because I can be…"

"Difficult," Edward adds, smirking at her.

"I was going to say a mean bitch," she retorts. As everyone – except me – chuckles, she smiles at Emmett before looking at my dad again. "Anyway, I don't think a single day went by when he didn't mention Bella. He's crazy about her and you're crazy if you don't see it."

To my surprise, when I look at my dad, he's smiling. "I see it. Just wanted to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me," he says with a nod. "I hope you won't hold it against me, Edward. But she's my daughter. I want to protect her, too."

"I understand, Charlie," Edward answers.

"Mama, are you done torturing Rosalie and Edward yet?" Jasper asks with a smirk. "You gonna ask for ID? You want to see their Costco cards? Talk to their third grade teachers?"

Mama is chuckling when she replies that she's finished, and everyone begins talking at once. Jas says something to Edward and they both laugh. When Edward looks my way, I roll my eyes dramatically, but he smiles crookedly at me, then turns to talk to Mama again. Holy shit. I recognize that look on his face… I think he's infatuated with her.

Shaking my head in amusement, I pull myself out from under Emmett's heavy arm and stand up. I pause to ruffle my dad's hair as I walk out of the kitchen, intending to go get Riley and Joey from the basement.

"Bella, where's the bathroom?" Rosalie asks softly from behind me.

"Oh, um, I'll show you," I stammer, turning to look at her. As I lead her down the short hall, I know I should say something to her, express some sort of gratitude that she defended Edward to my dad. But I chicken out. "Here you go." I turn on the light in the bathroom, smile slightly at her, and walk away.

In the basement, Joey sighs in relief when I talk Riley into turning off the Wii.

"Bella, I beat Joey in bowling _and_ tennis," Riley boasts, slipping her hand into mine as we walk up the stairs.

"She doesn't even aim," Joey whispers incredulously as I laugh. "I have no idea how she kept winning. I wasn't losing on purpose."

As we reach the top of the stairs, I see Rosalie coming out of the bathroom. She glances at me, then does a double-take when she realizes who's with me.

"Who are you?" Riley asks inquisitively as we approach her. Rosalie's eyes dart to my face.

"Riley, this is Rosalie," I explain. "She's a friend of ours, and she works with Uncle Edward."

I'm still not sure I would call Rosalie _my_ friend, but I know how Edward feels about her.

"She's my friend, too?" Riley asks, looking up at me.

"Yes," I answer. That's not all she is to Riley, but whether or not to explain that is Alice's decision.

"Hi, Riley," Rosalie says, smiling as she crouches down in front of us.

"Hi," Riley replies, tilting her head slightly. "We have the same hair." She lets go of my hand and reaches forward to touch Rosalie's blonde strands.

"Yes, we do," Rosalie agrees.

"And blue eyes," Riley continues. "Jasper has blue eyes, too. Just like us."

"That's right." Rosalie laughs softly.

Then, in the way of five-year-olds, Riley is on to another subject.

"Bella, guess what," she says excitedly, looking up at me. "Tomorrow is my friend's birthday party and I getta go. And I got her a present and it's lotion with sparkles in it." As she's talking, she takes my hand again and pulls me toward the kitchen. Rosalie stands and looks at me, using her fingers to wipe away the tears leaking from the outside corners of her eyes.

Oh, dammit. Tears spring to my eyes, too. First she defends my boyfriend and now she's clearly affected by the kid who occupies a giant spot in my heart. I might as well admit that I'm starting to think Rosalie isn't so bad… and I'm irritated as hell about that.

"Thank you," she whispers as I pass her. Unable to speak around the lump in my throat, I just nod and smile at her.

As soon as we get to the kitchen doorway, Riley lets go of my hand to race toward Jasper, hugging him tightly around the neck when he lifts her onto his lap. I walk to the counter and open more wine, then accept with a smile when Rosalie offers to help pour it. When Riley asks for juice, I ask Rosalie to get it… and I even return the one-armed hug she gives me.

By the time I'm ready to sit down at the table, I realize there are no more empty chairs, but Edward catches my eye, scooting his chair back and crooking his finger at me. Aware of my dad's watchful eye, I shake my head slightly and pull a chair up beside him instead.

For almost an hour, we sit around the table, listening as Mama, Big Daddy and my dad tell stories. Riley hops from lap to lap, even stopping for a moment on Rosalie's. She sits on mine the longest – not that I'm keeping track – and then moves to Edward's, immediately falling asleep against his shoulder.

When everyone gets up to leave a bit later, I notice Mama watching intently as Edward hands Riley off to Jasper. After Jas and Alice leave the room, Mama heads for us.

"Looks like that little one has you two wrapped around her finger," she remarks, smiling.

"She does and she knows it," Edward laughs.

"That's the way it should be," Mama says. "Edward, I appreciate you indulging me tonight. I just wanted to be sure about you. And now I am."

"Thank you, Mrs. Whitlock," he answers.

Mama pulls him into a hug, patting him soundly on the back. "That's Mama to you, honey." She pulls away to grin at him. "Just stay away from Joey. He's a bad influence."

With a wink she leaves the kitchen, joining everyone else in the living room. I grab Edward's hand and drag him into the walk-in pantry, pushing him back against the shelves.

"What's wrong, Stel?" he asks, frowning.

"Absolutely nothing," I say quietly, lifting up on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck. "I just needed a minute alone with you."

He holds me tightly until I pull back, shifting one of my hands to his cheek as I look into his eyes.

"Did I do okay?" he smirks, already knowing he expertly diffused Mama's doubts… and probably most of my dad's, too.

"I knew the arrogant semi-asshole was lurking in there somewhere," I mutter, rolling my eyes. "Yes, Ned. You did very well."

"I was an excellent test-taker in school," he brags, making me laugh. I press my lips to his for an instant, then tug on his neck until he rests his forehead against mine.

Sighing heavily, I whisper, "I wish you could stay here tonight."

"I'd like to take this opportunity to point out that if you had agreed to move in with me three weeks ago when I asked, this wouldn't be an issue," he teases.

"You're not helping," I grouse, but we're both smiling as our lips meet.

"Marry me," he murmurs in between kisses.

My already-racing heart pounds harder in my chest, every beat thundering loudly in my ears as he kisses me again. He's asked me this same question every few days since we returned from Key West, but he knows it's too soon for us to seriously consider taking that step.

Still… it's getting more and more difficult to turn him down.

"No," I answer gently… reluctantly.

He pulls back slightly to look at me, his lips curling into a slight smile. "Someday you're gonna say yes."

He's right. Someday I am.

* * *

When we go into the living room several minutes later, I tell my dad that he can have my bed and I'll sleep on the couch.

"Bella, that's unnecessary," Edward interjects. "Charlie, why don't you sleep at my house? It's not far from here and I have an empty guestroom."

Once my dad agrees, I tell them I'll come along. My main motivation is to be with Edward, but I'm also a little worried about what my dad will say if he's left unsupervised.

"You two get married without telling me?" Charlie asks gruffly, fixing his deep brown eyes on mine.

"No, sir," Edward answers for us, smirking as he looks pointedly at me.

Huffing loudly, I roll my eyes, and before I really even know what's happening, they've both kissed me goodbye and left… together. The only bright spot is that Edward drove my dad, so he doesn't have his gun.

Agitated, I go into the kitchen where Mama is loading the dishwasher.

"I thought the guys were supposed to clean up tonight," I remark as I put away the bottle of whiskey and carry the last couple of glasses to the sink.

"They did," she says, annoyed. "But I never remember that _their_ idea of cleaning up is vastly different than _my_ idea of cleaning up."

"I'll finish up, Mama," I offer. "You can go on to bed."

"Nonsense. Many hands make light work," she says, turning to smile at me. "So tell me, is Edward always that sweet or was that for show?"

Turning toward her, I smile wryly. "That's pretty much him."

"That's what I thought," she affirms, handing me a plate to put in the dishwasher. "I've seen that look on a man's face before… at _my_ mama's table."

"What look?"

"That look like he'll love you just as much when he's disappointed in you as he does when he's proud of you. That look like he'd pay the sun to come up every morning just because you might be watching," she smiles.

"Big Daddy?" I ask, blinking back tears.

"Yep. My mama wasn't too keen on him back in the day," she laughs as she hands me more rinsed dishes. "Had a sit-down with us at her table that would make tonight seem like a walk in the park. But William was respectful… steadfast in his feelings for me… determined to win my mama over. And that's when I knew he was the one. Not coincidentally, that's also the first night I slept with him."

"Mama!" I exclaim, dropping the plate the last few inches into the dishwasher and covering my ears with my hands. "I don't want to… not you and… just… no."

"Oh, for the love of Pete!" Mama chides. "Why is it that every generation thinks they invented sex? I came of age during the sexual revolution, you know. And I was _quite_ revolutionary if you get my drift."

I get it… whether I want to or not. I need some Pepto.

"Annnyway," she continues, dragging the word out to indicate that she still thinks I'm being ridiculous, "seeing you two with little Riley, I have no doubt that you'll make good parents, too. Have you thought about that?"

"Well, yeah," I admit. More and more I think about it. More and more I know I want it… someday. "But it's too soon."

"Take your time, sweet pea," she advises. "You don't have to get in a rush. You and Edward should enjoy yourselves for a while first. William and I certainly did. I tell you that man could get me hot and bothered from a hundred yards away. All I had to do was see that black cowboy hat in the distance and I was rearin' to go."

"Maaaamaaa," I complain, covering my face with my hands. Her arms come around me and she kisses the side of my head.

"All right, I'll stop," she acquiesces. "You better get on up to bed now. We're going sightseeing tomorrow. Edward said I can ride with him."

Laughing loudly, I hug her back. "I bet he did. I think he has a crush on you," I say.

"Well, if that's not a feather in my cap, I don't know what is," she replies, releasing me, but winding her arm through mine as we walk out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. "I like him very much, Bella."

"Me, too, Mama," I agree, turning to smile at her. "I like him very much, too."

* * *

"Stel?" Ned asks quietly as we speed along the highway toward Forks. It's been six weeks since Mama and Big Daddy's visit. Edward is driving and I'm reading on my phone… well, I'm pretending to read on my phone. I can't really concentrate.

From the corner of my eye, I see him glance my way.

I haven't spoken since ten minutes before we left Seattle.

"You know I was kidding, baby," he says for the twentieth time.

"Yep," I agree, still pretending to be engrossed in what I'm reading… which is the dictionary that came with the Kindle app.

"Your lasagna is way better than Alice's. You know she can't cook for shit," he continues, reaching over to rest a hand just above my knee. I don't pull away, but I don't react in any other way either. "If you weren't so damn grouchy in the morning, this wouldn't be an issue."

"You know I'm grumpy at seven o'clock in the morning," I spit. "You also know I spent hours cooking this surprise birthday lunch for my dad last night. Why would you joke around about it?"

"This is a ridiculous fight, Bella," he says. We've been in the car for an hour… an hour of near-complete silence.

"We're not _fighting_," I correct him in my snottiest tone.

"Good."

"I'm not speaking to you," I say haughtily.

"You just did," he taunts, slowly sliding his hand halfway up my thigh.

"Shut up," I grumble.

"Did it again."

"Stop it!" I turn toward the window so he won't see the smile I'm trying to contain.

"You can't stay mad at me," he says lightly, moving his fingers a little higher, sliding them back and forth slowly. "I'm your favorite semi-asshole."

"You _used_ to be," I say, trying to ignore the warm rush of desire flooding my body. He pulls his hand away, putting it back on the steering wheel.

"Hey!" I complain, reaching for his hand and placing it on my leg again. "I'm not done letting you beg for forgiveness." Smirking, I glance over at him.

"If you forgive me, I'll do whatever you want tonight when we get back," he pronounces, looking quickly at me before returning his eyes to the road.

"That's not much incentive. You'll do that anyway," I say, then laugh when he grasps the ticklish spot above my knee. "Stop! Stop!" I try to wiggle away but he's got a pretty strong grip on me.

"Say it. Edward is forgiven," he coaxes.

"Okay, okay. Edward's forgiven," I concede, giggling a little more and then leaning over against his arm.

The past six weeks – since the Whitlocks went back to Texas – have been six of the best weeks of my life. Everything is going great with Ned. I see Alice and Riley several times a week. My friendship with Jas has shifted slightly, but we're still close. My friendship with Emmett is surviving his continued romance with Rosalie. And I can even admit – without rolling my eyes… _much_ – that she's growing on me in a non-fungal way.

I sit up and twist sideways in my seat to talk to him, pointing out things I want him to see – especially as we get close to Forks. I direct him to my dad's house, sighing happily as we park at the curb. Looking out the window at the little, white house, I remember being here for Christmas. At that time, I never imagined that I'd be bringing Ned here four months later. When he comes to help me unload the cooler from the backseat, I reach one hand up to his neck and pull him until he bends down to kiss me.

"Thanks for coming with me," I whisper against his lips.

"You're welcome," he smiles as I slide the handle of the present over his arm and then hand him the heavy pan of lasagna. I pick up the cake, then lead the way up the sidewalk to the front door, key in hand. As I put my key in the lock, Edward questions me. "You're just barging in? Aren't you going to knock?"

"He's not here."

"How do you know?"

"My dad has done the same thing every Saturday for as long as I can remember. He fishes, then comes home for lunch and a nap," I explain. "Plus, his truck isn't in the driveway."

"Maybe it's in the garage," he suggests.

"The garage is full of junk," I reply, shaking my head. "I've tried to get him to clean it out for years. He hasn't parked in there since I was sixteen."

The door is sticking, making it difficult to open with one hand. I jiggle the doorknob and put my shoulder against it, finally pushing it open, then smiling when it creaks familiarly on its hinges. I step inside and turn to wait for Edward.

"You're sure he's not here?" Edward asks lowly.

Just as I'm about to reply, I hear the metal click of a break-action shotgun barrel from upstairs.

"Hold it right there! I'm armed!"

"Dad!" I exclaim. "It's me." Turning toward the stairs, I look up to see Charlie coming down, aiming his shotgun at us – wearing boxer shorts… only boxer shorts.

"Bella?" he asks, surprised. He lowers the gun immediately. "Edward. Hi. What the hell are you two doing here?"

"Trying to get ourselves killed apparently," I remark dryly. My dad's face breaks into a grin. "Happy birthday, Dad."

"Charlie! Is everything okay?" a female voice calls from the upstairs hall. Then I see bare feet at the top of the stairs. As I let my eyes roam upward, I see my dad's robe… wrapped around a woman. She's older, pretty… and her hair is a mess. My eyes widen as I realize what we've interrupted. My much-quicker boyfriend is already chuckling quietly behind me.

"Oh… my… God," I whisper.

My dad clears his throat as his face turns every shade of red imaginable, finally settling somewhere just south of purple. "Uh, Bella, I'd like you to meet Kim," he says nervously. "Kim, this is Bella."

"Goodness! Hi. Oh, honey, your dad has told me so much about you," she says quickly, reaching up to smooth her unruly hair.

"Uh, yeah, hi," I stammer. "Um, this is my boyfriend, Edward. We brought lunch."

After she and Edward exchange hellos, I feel him at my back. "Bella, why don't we take the food into the kitchen?" I nod and guide Ned to the kitchen while my dad and his _lady friend_ head back upstairs.

"I swear to God if you laugh about this, I won't speak to you for the rest of the day, Edward Cullen," I whisper testily.

"I swear to God I'll try not to laugh at this highly amusing situation, Isabella Swan," he answers. "Why are we calling each other by first and last names?"

"I don't know, but don't push me on it," I snap, slamming the cake down on the counter and turning to take the lasagna pan from him. After I set it down, I feel Ned's arms wrap around my waist from behind. "Oh, my God, Ned. Do you think it was this bad for my dad when you answered the door at my apartment on _my_ birthday?"

"No, baby," he soothes as I lean my head back against his shoulder. "I think it was worse for Charlie – both times."

"Hey!" I elbow him lightly in the ribs and chuckle despite my queasiness.

Slipping my arms under his, I push myself more securely into his embrace, clinging to him as he tightens his grasp.

"I should have learned never to surprise anyone, shouldn't I?" I mumble. "It never works out for me."

"Stel, you can surprise me anytime," he says quietly, leaning his head against mine.

"I've just… he's never even dated anyone steadily. I guess I thought he was happy alone."

"Maybe he met someone who changed his mind… like I did," he murmurs with his lips against my temple. "Not all change is bad."

Turning around in his arms, I look in his eyes and smile slightly. "Don't say sweet things just to make me feel better," I say, twining my arms around his neck.

"I'm not. It's the truth," he replies, leaning down to kiss me. When he pulls back, he's smiling and his green eyes are playful. "Besides, if I wanted to make you feel better, I'd ask you to marry me again. You seem to enjoy turning me down."

I chuckle twice as I shake my head. "You know it's too soon, Ned," I state.

"Give me something here, Stel," he teases, his eyes roving over my face. "At least move in with me."

Before I can answer him, my dad appears in the doorway behind him. "Bella? Can I talk to you for a minute in the other room?"

"Sure, Dad," I agree, pulling away from Edward.

We're both a little embarrassed during the conversation that follows in the living room. He apologizes for not telling me about Kim and admits they've been seeing each other for three months. I apologize for showing up unannounced and not knocking. We avoid eye contact… and any mention of my dad pulling a gun on us while dressed only in his underwear.

When he proudly tells me that he cleaned out the garage so Kim wouldn't have to park outside if it's raining, I finally look into his eyes.

"Dad, you look so happy," I say, feeling my own chest lighten with the realization.

"I am, honey," he agrees, pulling me into a hug when I twist toward him on the couch. "I am."

With our awkward conversation behind us, I go back to the kitchen and put the lasagna in the oven. Edward and I stay the rest of the day, and so does Kim. When my dad takes Edward to the lake to show him where he _usually_ fishes on Saturday mornings, Kim and I talk, but carefully avoid talking too much about her and my dad. She seems really nice though, and when Edward and I leave soon after dinner, I tell her I hope I'll see her again… and I mean it.

* * *

When I walk out of the bathroom in my flannel pajama pants and tank top, Edward is sitting up on his side of the bed, waiting. He smiles at me as I climb in on my side, then crawl to him and straddle his lap. I've been waiting impatiently for this all day.

He settles his hands on my waist, and then slides them up my sides as I lean forward. I whimper quietly as he cups my breasts.

"Ned," I whisper as I press my lips lightly against his once… twice… again. Licking across his bottom lip, I let my eyes slide closed… and see my dad. Gasping, I pull away from Edward and sit up.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asks, frowning.

Shaking my head, hoping it erases the disturbing vision in my head of my dad and Kim, I decide to try again. Smiling, I bury my hands in his hair and kiss him again, but as soon as I shut my eyes… it's Charlie.

"Oh, God," I whisper, scrambling off Ned's lap.

"Stel, what's going on?" he asks quietly as I scoot way over on my own side of the bed. Leaning back against the headboard, I pull my knees up and rest my forehead on them.

"Every time I close my eyes while we're kissing, I get this horrible picture in my head of my dad and Kim… having sex," I confess. Instead of the sympathy I expect from him, he laughs… hard. Blindly, I punch with my left arm several times until I hit him. "Really? How about Carlisle and Esme? They're shacked up. What do you think they're doing at night?"

That shuts him up.

"Gross. Stop it," he says grouchily. "Fuck. Now _my_ head is full of old people having sex."

"Sorry," I mutter. "Maybe we should just go to sleep."

"Good idea," he agrees, turning off the lamp on his side. I turn mine off, too, and then settle in the bed, moving closer to him. We're facing each other, and after my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can see that he's lying wide awake, blinking at me. "Jesus. They're all probably having sex right now."

"Knock it off, Ned!" I groan. "You're making it worse." I start to laugh… and can't stop. Edward laughs, too, and it takes us several minutes to calm down. He pulls me into his arms after we say goodnight – but neither of us kisses the other.

Three hours later, I'm awake and staring at my sleeping boyfriend, smiling at the way he twitches his nose after I lightly trace my finger down the bridge of it. All night, he's slept like a baby while I've been restless, dozing in twenty minute intervals filled with vivid dreams… mostly of him.

Stretching up, I press my lips gently, lingeringly against his forehead, and then slip out of bed, trying not to wake him as I leave the room.

* * *

Holding three nails in my mouth, I pound the fourth one into the wall softly… well, as softly as you can pound nails. I know I'm being loud… I should be quieter. But I can't sleep… not until he knows.

Once the first picture is hung, I move the stepstool to the right and climb up. Then I take the second nail out of my mouth and start hammering it into the next spot I marked on the wall.

"Stella?" Ned asks sleepily from the stairs behind me. "Jesus. It's three o'clock in the morning. What the hell are you doing?" I smile when I hear him scratch his stomach and yawn.

Using the hammer in my right hand, I point to the three pictures still propped against the wall below me. "Moo-ing dese four hictures," I answer unclearly, still holding two nails between my teeth.

"I don't give a shit if you move them, but could you do it during the day?"

I take the nails out of my mouth to reply this time. "I couldn't sleep until I knew they'd look okay here," I insist, then look at him over my shoulder. "I love these pictures." Turning back toward the wall, I put the nails back in my mouth and resume hammering.

It's the truth. They're incredible Ansel Adams prints – or God, knowing Edward, originals. They've been hung side by side on the long wall near the kitchen. Now I'm hanging them on a different wall in a square.

"Why are you moving them if you love them?" he asks, bewildered, as I hang the second picture.

"Because I only have one really good piece of art, and you only have one wall big enough for it. That one," I answer, pointing to the wall where these pictures used to hang.

Stooping down, I pick up the pencil and tape measure, then extend the tape along the wall to mark the two spots for the lower pictures.

He's silent behind me… I wait nervously for him to say something. The man is smart. Even half-asleep, he'll get it. Just as I begin hammering the next nail, he interrupts.

"Stel, will you quit the fucking pounding for a second and talk to me?" he asks loudly. I stop and turn around. "Are you telling me that you're moving in?"

"You said I could surprise you anytime, so… surprise."

"You're moving in?" he asks again as he starts to walk toward me.

"If you want me to," I answer.

"I fucking want you."

I don't know if he means he wants me to move in or that he _wants_ me. It doesn't really matter to me right now because the way he's stalking across the floor toward me erases every coherent thought in my head. My heart races… my chest rises and falls quickly with each shallow, quick breath. I take two steps backward until I feel the wall behind me. I drop the final nail to the floor and let the hammer fall onto the step stool beside me.

"I love you," I breathe just before Edward reaches me.

His darkened eyes answer silently as he crashes his lips to mine, putting his palms on the wall on either side of my head. We move our mouths together frantically, and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. I have no sense of time… no idea how long we stand with our lips fused, our tongues sliding, swirling… it could be one minute or ten. When I moan quietly, Ned knows I need more… knows I need him. Gripping my hair with one hand and my shoulder with the other, he pushes his body into mine, pressing me against the wall so that we're chest to chest, hip to hip.

Gasping, I pull my mouth away and lean my head on the wall, trying to catch my breath. Edward tugs gently on my hair until I tilt my head that way, giving him more room to kiss down the left side of my neck. He pulls the strap of my tank top aside and sucks gently, then more forcefully on the spot where my neck and shoulder meet.

"Oh… God… Ned," I whisper, dropping my arms from around his neck to hang limply at my sides.

He continues skimming his lips along my shoulder, my collarbone, and then back to my neck. As he nips gently at my skin, he reaches for my right hand, twisting it until he can slide his fingers between mine. Tightening my fingers around his, I watch as he raises his head and lifts our joined hands to his mouth. Holding my gaze, he kisses my fingers, then presses our hands against the wall beside my head at the same time he presses his hips against mine.

"I love you," he says, his voice quiet and raspy.

"I know," I pant, my chest pushing against his each time I inhale. "I want you."

His grin is quick, and then gone before he answers, nodding. "I know."

He bends down to me, brushing his lips across my jaw teasingly before settling his mouth against mine. Weak-kneed, I kiss him back desperately, using my free hand to push his t-shirt up on one side. His dark green eyes pop open to meet mine as he backs up a step and pulls his shirt off. I reach for the hem of my tank top, taking it off quickly, and then gripping his shoulders as he steps toward me again.

He lowers his head, kissing across the swell of my breasts as he uses his thumbs to brush across my nipples. When I whimper, he slides his mouth down to cover one breast, sucking strongly. Letting my head rest against the wall behind me, I concentrate on the movement of his mouth, the feeling of his tongue, his teeth… but soon, that's not enough. Sliding my hand down his chest, I reach for the waistband of his boxers; he pulls away before I can touch him, holding my hand.

"Come on, baby," he growls, turning to walk toward the stairs.

He stops on the first step, letting me go up ahead of him. We're almost to the top when I feel him tug gently on my hand, stopping me as he wraps his other arm around my waist.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he whispers against my shoulder.

I turn in his arms, locking my lips to his. This time when I reach for the waistband of his boxers, he doesn't stop me and I push them down as far as I can reach, then wrap my hand around him. He shoves himself into my hand, groaning quietly as I stroke him several times. Breaking the kiss, I let go of him and push my pants and underwear off, kicking them down the stairs.

"Here?" he asks.

"Here."

He wraps his arms around me as we go down, kissing again. Sitting on a step, I lean back as Edward kneels between my legs and thrusts into me.

"Oh… God... _God_," I breathe, putting one elbow on the step behind me to steady myself.

"Stella," he groans, pressing his open lips to mine. He pulls out, and then plunges back in. He rests his forehead against mine, moving faster, driving into me forcefully.

We're both panting when he reaches between us, caressing my clit until I come, crying out and dropping my head back onto the step behind me. Edward holds still inside me, bending forward to kiss across my arched neck while I recover.

Still catching my breath, I whimper quietly when he slides his mouth to my chest… trailing his fingers up my leg… arousing me once more.

"Mmm," I breathe, moving my hips against his.

"Scoot to the top, baby. I don't want to hurt your back," he says quietly, raising up to look at me. On shaky legs, I move up two steps, then lie all the way back into the upstairs hall. Edward pulls me til I'm on the very edge of the top step, closing his eyes and sliding into me again. "I can't… go slow."

"Don't want you to," I mumble, watching him, tightening my legs around his hips as he slams into me over and over.

I force my heavy eyes to stay open so I can see him… the slight sheen of sweat that appears on his face and neck… the cords of his neck that protrude as he gasps for breath. When his lips fall open and I know he's close, I squeeze my muscles around him.

"Fuck… Bella," he grunts, thrusting shallowly as he comes and then holding still all the way inside me. With a loud exhale, he collapses forward onto me, resting his head between my breasts.

Smiling, I bury one hand in his hair, sliding my fingers through the damp strands. Catching our breath, we lie silent and mostly still for several minutes before he speaks.

"Are you serious? You'll move in?" he whispers.

"I'm serious," I answer. "But I'm paying half the mortgage."

He lifts his head to look at me. "Baby, I don't have a mortgage."

"Figures," I mutter disgustedly. He smiles and lays his head down again, facing the opposite direction now. "I'm not mooching off of you."

"Okay," he agrees, much more easily than I thought he would. "We'll work it out."

We're both quiet again, lost in our own thoughts as we lie intertwined. This time I break the silence.

"Did you know that _Stairway to Heaven_ was never released as a single?" I ask.

He chuckles against my skin, pressing a kiss to one breast before he pushes up to look at me. "No, baby. I didn't know that."

"It was considered too long for radio play," I smile, raising up on my elbows. Edward straightens up, then pulls me so that I'm sitting up.

"So, sex with me makes you think of classic rock?"

"No, great sex on a staircase with you makes me think of a specific classic rock _song_," I correct, wrapping my arms around his neck. He kisses me languidly, lazily.

"Move in with me," he says against my lips.

"I already said I would," I reply, pulling back slightly and looking into his eyes.

"Humor me," he pleads, smiling. "Move in."

"Yes," I answer, sighing happily when he wraps his arms around me, hugging me tightly.

"Bella?"

"Mmhmm?"

"As long as you're answering yes to stuff, can I ask a couple more questions?"

"Yes," I laugh, assuming he'll try to slip a proposal in.

"There's a cocktail reception for the operating system launch in June. Will you come with me?"

"Yes."

"I have to go to that conference in San Diego again this summer. Can you get away and come?"

"Yes."

"Can we tell your dad that we're moving in together soon – while he still feels guilty for almost shooting us?"

Laughing again, I nod. "Yes."

"One more," he says, pulling back to look at me.

"Okay. Ask me." I shift one hand to his face, brushing my fingers along his jaw and wondering if I will be able to turn him down this time… I'm not sure I can.

"Can we get up now? My knees are killing me."

That wasn't what I expected him to say, although I guess it serves me and my giant ego right.

I press my lips to his quickly and smile. "Yes. Let's go to bed."

"In our room," he says, wincing as he stands. But when he holds a hand toward me to help me up, he smiles.

"Yes, Ned. In our room."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading - please review.**

**The next chapter will probably be the last for Ned and Stella...**


	26. The Who

**A/N: Long time. I know.  
**

**This isn't the last chapter. I split the chapter because I felt it was too long. The next chapter is finished and being tweaked. I'll post it within a couple of days, and that one really is the last chapter. :)  
**

**As always, thanks to my fabulous beta, Windgirl810, who turned this around super fast because of my own neurosis about when I was posting it. :) She's great. I love her.  
**

**Three great friends also preread for me (even though they really do so much more than prereading!): Littlecat358, Tennesseelamb and Michelle0526. I'm lucky to know all of you!  
**

**Thanks for reading - please review if you feel like it. :)  
**

* * *

"Ten bucks if you can hit his mouth," Jas whispers.

"Ten? _Ten_? You used to pay me twenty," I answer lowly, turning to look at him. I eat the last two pieces of popcorn out of my hand.

"I used to be afraid you didn't have money. When you first started working for us, we could hardly afford to pay you. Now I know you make good bank." He smiles at me the same way he always has, and I feel a pang of sadness in my chest.

"Everything's changing," I whine, slumping toward him to lean on his shoulder.

"For the better, Baby Swan," he reassures me. "Unless you've changed your mind about moving in with Edward. It's not too late."

Chuckling, I look at the boxes stacked around the living room. My stuff is all packed up and I'm here with just my boys… for just one more night.

"I haven't," I reply, smiling softly.

Honestly, I can't wait to move in with Edward tomorrow. I haven't had a second thought about it since I made the decision three weeks ago. I'm nervous, excited – and since I'm a chicken-shit at heart, also scared. But I'm absolutely sure that I made the right choice for myself. For us.

"Did you finally tell your dad?" Jas asks, amused.

"Yeah. He was surprisingly cool and supportive. I didn't even have to bring up the whole loaded shotgun incident." Under my head, Jas' shoulder shakes with silent laughter, but my smile fades as I sigh. "This is it, Jas. It will never be just the three of us like this again."

"Probably not," he agrees. "Now it'll be the six of us."

"Five."

"Six."

"_Five_."

"Six," he insists. "Who aren't you counting?"

"Rosalie," I say, smirking. I can't help it.

"I thought you were getting along with her." Jas nudges me off his shoulder, forcing me to sit up and look at him.

"I am," I huff. "But still… I used to think she was engaged to the man I love. It's not that easy to get over."

"You forgave _him_." Jas gives me his version of the look Mama uses on the boys when they know they're not behaving the way they should.

"Shut up," I scowl, lowering my eyes. I can't look into his scolding Texas skies right now. "I'm mostly fine with her. I can't say this shit to anyone except you. Can't I just have a _moment_ of bad feelings about her every once in a while?"

"Yeah, you can," he allows, slinging his arm around my shoulder. He pulls me close and kisses the top of my head. "Just don't say it to Em."

At the mention of his name, Emmett stirs on the couch across the room. "Huh? You say something to me?" he mumbles.

"No, sweetie. Go back to sleep," I soothe. Jas and I sit in silence for a moment, watching Emmett drift back to sleep, arms flung over his head, mouth hanging wide open once more. "Thanks for helping me pack, Jas. And for helping me after Jake… and with all the Edward stuff. You're the best friend I've ever had."

"You're welcome, Baby Swan," he answers. He sounds like he might be a little choked up, so I pull away to look at him. His eyes are misty, which makes me immediately tear up, too. I turn sideways on the fireplace hearth, and we wrap our arms around each other tightly.

"God, Jas. I'll miss you so much."

"Sugar, you realize you'll still see me every day at work, right?"

"I know," I laugh. "But it'll be different."

"Yeah. Now you'll go home at night and bitch to _Edward_ about the little princesses in our office. Thank God I won't have to listen to that shit anymore," Jas teases, trying to lighten the mood.

Across the room from us, Emmett mutters something in his sleep. Jas pulls away from me and reaches for the popcorn bowl on the floor at our feet. He holds it out to me, and I take another handful.

"All right. Twenty bucks if you hit his mouth," he challenges.

Since he didn't give me any conditions, I toss all the popcorn in my hand at Emmett's face, raising my arms above my head in victory when two pieces hit his open mouth. Emmett sits up, blinking sleepily and brushing away the popcorn on his chest as Jas and I laugh.

"I knew you would do that," Jas declares, shaking his head at me as I stand up. I carry the bowl and our empty beer bottles into the kitchen while he gets Em up and drags him to the guestroom.

When I get upstairs, Jas is leaning against the wall in the hallway.

"We're starting at eight, right?" he asks, stifling a yawn.

"Yep," I answer, yawning, too.

"All right. I'm turning in then," he says. "Gimme some sugar, sugar."

We kiss on the cheek, and then hug tightly.

"Love you, Jas," I whisper.

"I love you, too, darlin'. But this one had better stick," he drawls, his accent more pronounced since he's tired. "This is the last fucking time I'm helping you move."

* * *

Although I fall asleep easily, I wake up several times during the night, anxiously checking the clock. By the time my room starts to get light, I've been awake and staring at the ceiling for over an hour. With a sigh, I get up and shower, and then pack the last of my things from up here.

Silently, I go downstairs, wandering slowly from room to room until I wind up in the kitchen. After I start the coffee, I pull open the dishwasher and check to see if I missed anything of mine. I find my favorite spatula and toss it into the open box on the counter, but that's it. Everything else is Jasper's. Trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach, I tape the box shut and carry it to the living room, stacking it on top of the other kitchen boxes near the door.

It's barely past seven o'clock, so I'm surprised when I look out the window and see Edward backing a borrowed truck into the driveway. Grinning widely, I step out onto the porch and stand at the top of the steps to watch him walk up the sidewalk.

"Good morning, Ned," I say as he climbs toward me. He stops on the stair just below me.

"Hi, baby."

"I thought you'd still be in bed, enjoying your last morning without me," I tease, kissing him, and then wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

"Yeah, it's gonna suck waking up with you every day," he laughs, burying his face in my neck.

"I could sleep in the guest room."

"No way, Stel," he murmurs against my skin. I kiss the side of his head as he tightens his arms around my waist. We stand still for a moment, until he pulls back to look at me with a smirk. "I'm sure I'll get used to your snoring eventually."

"Edward Cullen, I do not snore!" I punch his arm playfully and kiss him back when he leans in again.

Taking his hand, I pull him inside, quietly telling him that Jas and Em are still sleeping.

"You sure have a lot of shit," he observes as we wind through the boxes scattered around the living room.

"You're the one who said I could move all my shit to your house," I whisper teasingly, turning around to smile at him.

In the kitchen, I pour coffee for both of us. Edward takes his and leans against the counter. I take mine and lean against him, my back to his chest. We drink in silence for a moment before I speak.

"You're sure, right? That you want to live with me?"

"Mmhmm," he answers, taking another sip as he wraps his free arm around my waist, pulling me closer. "You're not changing your mind, are you?"

"No," I say softly, shaking my head with confidence. "No, I'm not."

"You're nervous?" Reluctantly, I nod. "Did you take Pepto?"

Laughing, I turn around to look up at him. I wasn't even aware he knew of my penchant for using the pink stuff to settle my nerves. "Not yet."

He sets his coffee down on the counter behind him and lifts his hand, warm from the heat of the cup, to the side of my neck. "I'm nervous, too, Stel. It's a big day for us, yeah?"

"Yeah." My voice is barely above a whisper.

"I'm sure things between us will change in some ways," he says, his deep, green eyes fixed on mine. "And every day won't be perfect. _We_ won't be perfect. But I love you, and I'm committed to you. I'm not running away."

"I'm not running either," I insist, raising up on my tiptoes to press my lips to his. "I love you."

Winding one arm around his neck, I kiss him several times before pulling his bottom lip in between mine. He responds by sliding the hand on my neck up into my hair. At the same time, he snakes the fingers of his other hand under the material of my t-shirt, stroking gently… slowly… along the skin just above the waistband of my shorts.

I let my teeth scrape along his lip as I let go, starting to rear back.

"Uh uh," he mutters, using the hand in my hair to keep me in place. "Fuck, how long has it been since we kissed like this?"

"Two days," I breathe, gripping the material of his shirt to pull myself closer. Still holding my coffee cup in my other hand, I wrap that arm around his back as we press our mouths together, tongues and lips touching and then retreating again and again.

"Whoa! Break it up, you two. It's too early in the day for me to stomach the tongue wars," Emmett complains when he comes into the kitchen.

Edward pulls his mouth away, chuckling. "Hey, Emmett," he greets, turning his head toward the interrupter. After lowering myself to stand flat-footed, I rest my head against Edward's chest, inhaling his scent and half-listening to them plan the logistics of moving all my stuff. As he talks – the vibration of his voice rumbling soothingly under my ear – he continues ghosting his fingers across the skin of my lower back.

With a silent sigh, I think back to the day that Jake moved in with me. We had just gotten engaged, and I figured the next logical step was to live together. My boys didn't help that day. I knew they didn't like Jake very much, but other than a few snide comments, they supported me. In retrospect, I wish I'd paid more attention to their observations and had the wisdom to get rid of him before the proposal. Although who knows where I would have ended up by now if I had? I guess things happened the way they were supposed to.

Closing my eyes, I swallow, releasing the grasp I have on Edward's shirt and curling my fingers around the nape of his neck instead. I feel him press his lips to my forehead. I hear Jas come in, mumbling about needing caffeine. But I keep my eyes shut, letting my thoughts center on _this_ man – the one I'm clinging to, depending on, planning on living with for the rest of my life. It seems silly now that I considered, however briefly, turning him down when he came to Key West. Even with the pain of everything we went through last fall and winter, the end result is better than I imagined it could be.

"Baby Swan, are you gonna stand there daydreaming all day or are we gonna move your ass in with Edward?" Jas asks teasingly.

My eyes pop open as I laugh happily, looking first at Edward, and then turning to Jas and Em. "Let's move my ass."

* * *

We move all of my boxes first, finishing just as Alice and Riley arrive with pizza for lunch. Once we've eaten, Alice offers to help me unpack while the guys head back to Jasper's to start moving my furniture.

For the next three hours, we put things away in the home office, the living room and, finally, the kitchen. Alice chatters about Jasper almost nonstop the same way he does about her. By the time we're organizing the kitchen cabinets, I'm listening distractedly to her while also trying to hear what the guys are talking about in the living room. They're taking a break – with beer – and have been laughing loudly.

"What do you think they're talking about?" I ask, looking up at her. I'm sitting on the floor trying to sort out Edward's plastic containers.

"Women or sports," she smiles. "What else would they be talking about?"

"Sex," I whisper, laughing as I glance at Riley. She's very carefully unpacking a box at the table and not paying attention to us at all. "But I can't talk about that with you."

"Why not? The day I met you, you were sitting on the counter in your undies with your tongue in my brother's mouth," she says quietly, bending down so Riley can't hear. "Forget talking about it. Riley and I almost witnessed the real deal."

As we both laugh, the guys' voices fade. They must be heading back upstairs.

"True," I concede. "But still. I don't want to know how my best friend is in bed any more than you want to know how your brother is."

"It's a fact of life, Bella," she says dismissively. "It doesn't bother me to talk about it."

"So I guess you do want to hear about it then?" I ask, smirking. "Because Edward does this one thing with his –."

"Okay! Stop! Stop!" she exclaims, laughing and holding her hands over her ears the way I did when Mama was talking about Big Daddy. "You win. I don't want to hear it."

We move on to safer topics for a little while before she drops her voice again.

"Are you coming to court Thursday?"

"I don't know," I answer just as quietly, looking up at her. "I want to – for you and for Edward. But he's kind of freaking about it."

"He doesn't want me to go either," she sighs. "But I need to. I have to face James. I don't want him to think he can ever get past me… get to Riley."

"He can't, Alice," I insist. "He'd have to get through all of us."

"I know," she nods. We keep our gazes fused to each other's for a few more seconds, until Riley walks over and sits down beside me on the floor, holding my salad spinner.

"Bella, next time I stay here can we make something in this?"

"Sure, sweetie," I answer, chuckling when she cranks it as fast as she can.

"Hey, Stel," Edward calls, speaking loudly to be heard over the noise. Turning toward his voice, I see him leaning against the wide kitchen doorway. "You want to come upstairs and make sure we put the furniture where you wanted it?"

"Yep," I answer, smiling at him as I push myself up from the floor. He follows me up the steps, hooking his fingers in the back pocket of my shorts. At the top of the staircase, I start to turn right toward the master bedroom.

"Guest room, baby," he says.

Puzzled, I turn left instead, stopping short at the door to the guest room. Jas and Emmett are inside, setting my lamps on my nightstands. On each side of my bed.

"Why the hell is our bedroom furniture in here?" I ask, looking at Ned over my shoulder.

"_Your _bedroom furniture is in here," he replies. "_Our_ bedroom furniture is in our bedroom."

I turn all the way around to face him. "We agreed to put my furniture in the master."

"No," he argues, frowning at me. "We agreed to leave _mine _in the master."

"Edward, I specifically remember you giving in on this," I insist.

"No, _you_ gave in and said 'fine'," he says, mimicking my snotty voice. "Then I said 'okay'."

"Every man knows that when a woman says 'fine' the way I said '_fine_', it is one hundred percent not _fine!_" I reply, heart pounding, volume increasing. "So when you said 'okay', I assumed you understood and were agreeing with me."

"Well, I wasn't."

"_Fine_." I hold my hands up, palms out, then scoot by him and head to the master bedroom.

Eyes filled with angry tears, I go straight to the walk-in closet. I flip the light on and grab an armful of the hanging clothes I brought over two nights ago. Sniffling, I turn my head to wipe my nose and one cheek on the sleeve of my shirt before I go back into the hallway.

When Edward sees me coming, he huffs out an exasperated breath.

"What are you doing?" he asks lowly as I pass him.

"Moving my clothes into _my_ bedroom," I answer coolly, "where the rest of _my_ things are."

"Oh, Jesus," he mutters under his breath, letting his head drop back and bang against the wall.

Inside the guest room, I slam all the clothes I'm carrying onto the bed, picking up just a few things and stomping to the closet to hang them up. I hear Emmett chuckle softly and turn to glare at him.

"Something to say, big fella?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

"No… nope." He's not smiling anymore as he shakes his head back and forth tightly, rapidly.

"I think we'll go downstairs," Jas announces, leading the way from the bedroom as I get another handful of clothes and roughly hang them on the closet rod. He pauses in the doorway to speak to Edward. "She'll settle down. This is just how she reacts to fear."

"I can hear you, cowboy," I spit, walking toward them. "And this is _not_ how I react to fear. This is how I react to assholes."

"Semi-assholes," Edward asserts. I'm unsure if he's trying to argue or if he's trying to be funny. It doesn't matter. Either way, I'm pissed.

"Full-blown assholes," I retort – loudly – as I push my way between them, rushing down the stairs and out the front door to the porch.

I inhale shakily and lean against one of the support posts, crossing my arms over my chest and facing the street. Carlisle and Esme's car is parked at the curb, meaning they came inside while I was upstairs… meaning they definitely heard me yelling about assholes.

A couple of minutes pass before I hear the door open and close. Recognizing Edward's deep sigh, I stand still as he approaches, stopping just behind and to the left of me.

"I don't want to fight with you," he says quietly.

"I don't want to fight with you either," I whisper.

Neither of us says anything else, letting an uncomfortable silence hang between us. I'm relieved to hear the door open again. I don't look to see who it is, but when Carlisle moves past us to sit down on the porch steps with a quiet groan, I smile involuntarily.

"Gonna be a nice evening," he remarks, looking at the mostly-blue sky above. "Esme and I brought steaks to grill for everyone. You kids have had a long day."

I swallow the lingering lump in my throat, and then answer him since Edward doesn't. "Thank you."

He nods, continuing to look out at the street instead of at Edward and me behind him.

"You know, when Esme and I moved in together, we had the biggest fight over the kitchen table," he muses. "She liked hers. I liked mine. Both of us are independent and had been on our own long enough to be set in our ways. She's also a little stubborn."

I chuckle softly. Carlisle turns to look at me pleadingly.

"Don't tell her I said that. It'll make her mad."

"I won't."

Facing forward again, he continues. "Anyway, we argued. Heatedly. It's odd the way common sense often goes flying out the window just when you need it the most," he observes, pausing to take a deep breath… and probably to let his words sink in. "We left both tables crammed in the kitchen for two days while we hardly spoke to each other. And then she had a brilliant idea. You're allowed to tell her I said _that_."

He glances briefly over his shoulder at Edward and me. We laugh softly.

"We went and picked out a new table that night. One both of us liked. One that was ours."

Inhaling sharply, I twist around to look at Edward at the same time I feel his hand on the back of my arm. As soon as our eyes meet, we move toward each other, quickly closing the distance. He leans down and I reach up, holding tight.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too," I mumble against his shoulder.

"We can move your stuff into the mas–," he begins.

"No, it's fine," I interrupt, not realizing until he chuckles that I've used the word that started the whole stupid argument. I pull away enough to see his face, but don't let go. "I mean that for real this time."

"Got it," he smiles.

"It doesn't matter whose bed we sleep in," I whisper, hugging him again.

"For now," he agrees. "But we'll go pick out our own stuff soon, yeah?"

As I nod, he kisses the side of my head. Sliding one hand into his hair, I shift around to get my lips on his, kissing him several times before pulling back. Glancing toward the steps, I see that Carlisle is gone.

"Where'd your dad go?"

"I don't know," he answers, looking around. "Back inside, I guess."

"Funny how your dad shares helpful anecdotes," I smirk, "while _my_ dad pulls a shotgun on us."

"Your dad gave me some advice when we were in Forks on his birthday," he offers.

"About what?"

"You."

"What did he say?"

"You don't really expect me to tell you, do you? It was all good, baby." He leans down to kiss me again.

"Don't try to distract me, Ned," I warn teasingly as we smile against each other's lips.

"I wasn't going to do this until later, but now seems like the right time." He releases me and takes a step back, reaching into his pocket. My mouth drops open when I see the small, square velvet box in his hand.

"Ned," I breathe, snapping my eyes up to meet his as my heart begins to race. Shit! Am I ready to say yes? I'm not sure. I haven't thought about it much lately. Since the night I told him I'd move in, he hasn't mentioned marriage. He went from proposing several times a week to complete and utter silence on the subject.

When he grabs my left hand, my chest rises and falls rapidly. I hear the quiet creak and pop of the hinge as Edward opens the lid of the jeweler's box and finally allow myself to look down.

It's not a ring.

Surprised at the disappointment that floods through me, I swallow and stare at the charm inside the box. It's a silver house and key.

"It's perfect," I say, but I don't trust myself to look at him yet, afraid he'll be able to tell that I'm a little letdown. Gently, I pick up the charm and hold it toward him. "Help me put it on the bracelet?"

Snapping the box shut, he puts it back in his pocket and takes the charm, letting go of my left hand to grasp the bracelet hanging from my wrist. He twists it around until he finds an empty space, and then tries to hook the charm on. But every time he gets the clasp open, he loses his grip and it closes again.

He mutters curse words under his breath as we both laugh. Covering his fingers with mine, I help him and in a few seconds, the house and key are hanging from the bracelet – in between the canoe and the rabbit. Twirling the bracelet around, I look at each charm, remember what each one represents.

"I love it," I whisper, my sadness of a few moments ago now overshadowed by joy as I study the newest addition again. Tilting my head up, I smile at him. "It's the house."

"It's our home," he says, bending down to me when I reach for his neck and tug.

"How soon can we kick all these people out of here?" I breathe in his ear.

"Five minutes," he answers eagerly.

"They brought dinner," I remind him, pulling away to look at him.

"Shit. I forgot," he groans, dropping his head back for a moment and then checking his watch. "It's a little after four o'clock now. You start yawning at seven and I'll do the rest."

"Okay," I laugh.

As we turn to walk inside, he wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close and leaning down to speak quietly to me again. "Then get your clothes off and pick a bed. Yours or mine?"

I open the door and walk inside first, looking at him over my shoulder. "I think mine," I answer. "And _then _yours."

"Stella," he threatens quietly, "you're starting something that I'm going to make sure you finish later."

"Counting on it, Ned," I sigh, holding my hand out behind me. He slides his fingers between mine and I squeeze gently as I pull him along toward the kitchen. "I'm counting on it."

* * *

All day Thursday, my stomach is in knots. I drink a little Pepto. I try to work. But I end up spending most of the day staring out my office window while I chew on my thumbnail.

"Nothing yet?" Emmett asks. Swiveling my chair to face him, I shake my head. Sighing, he moves from the doorway into my office and drops into one of the chairs in front of my desk. "Shit. I thought they'd be done by now."

"Me, too," I agree. "You should have gone with Rosalie."

"Nah," he shakes his head. "After she heard that Edward had talked you into staying away, she thought I should hang with you. She didn't want you to be alone all day."

Well, crap. That's gonna make it hard for me to continue harboring bad feelings about her.

"Thanks, Em," I smile.

I fought Edward a little bit when he insisted that I skip Jamie's sentencing today, but I eventually gave in, unwilling to continue looking at the worried expression on his face. Edward and his dad are there though, along with Alice and Jasper, and Rosalie and Jack.

And we haven't heard a damn thing from them all day except "No news yet".

Edward tried to assure me this morning that since Jamie had already agreed to a plea deal, this sentencing was just a formality. Still, knowing how much Jamie tries to manipulate every situation to his advantage, I'm afraid that no news is not good news.

Emmett spends a little more time in my office, helping me go over a presentation I have coming up for a potential client, but I can't concentrate for more than a couple of minutes at a time. Finally, we give up. Em offers to take me for a drink since happy hour is starting at Bobby's. Shaking my head, I tell him I really just want to go home and wait for Edward. I know he understands – and I have a feeling he's going to do the same thing.

As I'm driving, I get a text from Edward and grab my phone to glance at it.

***On my way home.**

My stomach drops. The fact that he didn't go into detail – and didn't call – makes me afraid that things didn't go well. I beat him home and go upstairs to change out of my work clothes. As I'm standing in the closet in shorts and a bra, I hear the alarm panel beep and know that he's coming in from the garage. Quickly yanking a t-shirt from its hanger, I slip it over my head as I race out of our room and halfway down the stairs, stopping when I see him.

He's standing in the living room, his back to me, pulling his tie apart. His suit jacket is already laying over the arm of the couch.

"Edward?" I ask hesitantly.

When he turns around, he looks drained, but he smiles slightly. "It's over, baby."

"All of it?"

He nods, sliding the tie from underneath the collar of his shirt and dropping it on top of his coat.

"He got three years and a hefty fine. He'll probably serve about half the time, according to Jack's lawyer," he says, perching on the low back of the couch. "He signed the papers severing his parental rights to Riley, and Jack assured me that James won't bother us again, even after he's released from prison."

Frowning, I walk the rest of the way down the stairs. "How does he–," I begin before Edward interrupts.

"I don't want to know," he sighs, rubbing his hands tiredly across his face. When I stand in front of him, he drops his hands to look at me. "I'm sure Jack is paying him off somehow. I don't really give a shit. I just don't want him to hurt my family again."

Hoping to give comfort, I wrap my arms around him and pull his head forward to rest on my shoulder. "He won't, Ned," I say softly. "He won't be able to hurt Alice or get to Riley."

"Or you," he replies insistently, raising his head. He lifts his hands to span my waist. "I mean you, too, Stel. You're the most important person in my life. You're my family as much as Alice… Riley… Carlisle. You know that, right?"

"Yes," I whisper. I lean forward, resting my forehead against his and closing my eyes. "I know. I feel the same."

For a moment, we are still and silent, our quiet breathing the only sound in the house. When I realize he's breathing faster, I open my eyes to find him staring at me. Slowly, he drags his hands up my sides, and then glides them back down to my hips.

"I need you." He grasps the hem of my shirt and pulls it up as I raise my arms to help.

When he kisses me, it's slow and deep. We take our time undressing each other, using our hands and lips to caress each bit of skin that's uncovered, until we fall together to the couch behind him. As he pushes into me, I keep my gaze locked on his, feeling the connection between us that is so much more than physical.

We move together unhurriedly. Neither of us speaks, but I can feel the tension of the last few days leave our bodies; his eyes are clear and unguarded for the first time since Tuesday. After a moment, he stills and leans down to kiss me, then presses himself impossibly deeper.

"God, Ned," I moan, wrenching my mouth away as I arch my back. "I love you. Please."

"I love you, too," he answers as he pushes up on one arm. With his other hand, he reaches for my leg, holding it tightly against his hip as he thrusts into me powerfully. He keeps his pace slow and steady until I buck underneath him, pulling on his shoulders.

Lowering his chest to mine, he buries his face in my neck, breathing hard… moving faster. When I'm close, I grip him more tightly, crying out as the orgasm bursts through me. He comes right after, groaning loudly against my skin.

We lie motionless as our pounding heartbeats slow, returning to normal. Eventually, he shifts around a bit, but doesn't move off me.

"Stel?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think it's bad that I was happy today?" he asks thoughtfully. "I sat in that courtroom and watched a man lose everything in his life, but I felt no sorrow. Even knowing that he's Riley's biological father, I couldn't force myself to feel the slightest bit of pity for him."

Reaching up to sink one hand into his hair, I turn my head and kiss the side of his face. "No, Ned. I don't think it's bad," I soothe. "After what he did to Alice and Riley, then what he did to you… Jack… the company… us? I think he's a rat bastard who deserves everything he got."

"Yeah. I feel better just knowing that we won't have to worry about him for a while," he answers. We're quiet for another moment, each lost in our own thoughts, until his stomach growls. Feeling his chest shake with laughter, I smile, too. When he pushes himself up to look at me, I reach up to trace his upturned lips with my thumbs.

"I'm hungry, too," I say. "I was so nervous that I couldn't eat today."

"I took some of your Pepto," he admits. "Twice."

Laughing, I drag him down to kiss me one more time. When we get up, he walks around the couch and pulls on his boxers, and then hands me my underwear and his dress shirt to wear.

"You look cute in my stuff," he remarks as I finish buttoning the shirt and roll back the cuffs. "Maybe I'm not that hungry after all."

"Oh, no, no, no. We're not skipping dinner," I argue, wrapping my arms around his waist. I hug him tightly, then look up at him. "But I could make something that's fast and we can eat in bed."

He doesn't answer, but when he bends down to pick me up, striding purposefully toward the kitchen as I wrap my legs around him, I take it as a sign that he likes my plan.

* * *

Two weeks later, we're spending our Saturday looking at furniture – again. It's the fourth time in the last ten days that we've been shopping, and it's the one year anniversary of the day we met. I feel like we've been to almost every store in Seattle. But so far, we haven't been able to agree on anything. And so far, Edward hasn't indicated that he remembers what today is.

"You like this one?" I ask hopefully, standing next to an oak, Mission-style set. It's similar to the set he already has, but has some wrought iron detail work on the headboard.

"Mmm, not really."

"What about that one?"

"Nope. Too contemporary," he replies, wandering away. When I exhale dramatically, he turns back around. "Unless that's what you like."

What I'd _like_ is to not waste another hour in this furniture store. What I'd _like_ is for us to be able to agree on something before I go insane. What I'd _like _is to rewind my life six days and pretend to love the big, four-poster bed he wanted at a different store. But, instead, I smile at him.

"No, Ned. I didn't want that one either," I say, sighing again. As he turns away again, I look toward the back corner of the store. Seeing something I like, I walk toward it.

The sleigh bed is white and covered by a floral duvet, but it has a really great shape and also comes in a darker wood finish. I check the price tag, open and close the drawers on the nightstand and dresser, and then walk back to stand at the foot of the bed. Standing still, I slide my hands back and forth over the smooth wood, appalled at the tears stinging my eyes. When did this happen to me? When did I become such a hopeless romantic? Why am I teary-eyed in the middle of a furniture store as I imagine spending countless nights – and days – in this bed with Edward? In my peripheral vision, I see him approaching, but I don't turn my head.

"Stel, I'm not really a pink flower kind of guy," he teases quietly, stopping beside me and propping his elbow on my shoulder. He leans a little of his weight on me. "And the white furniture is just too… girly."

I swallow carefully before I answer, hoping to make my voice sound normal. "It comes in cherry wood, too," I say, almost making it to the end of the sentence before my voice cracks.

"What's the matter? Did I upset you?" he asks, immediately pulling me into his arms.

"No," I whisper.

"You like this one?" I nod. "Okay. We'll get it."

"Do you like it? I want you to like it, too." He keeps an arm around me as he looks at the wood swatch, opens the drawers of the dresser, knocks on the headboard.

"Seems sturdy," he declares, trying to make me laugh. It works. "Let's order it and get out of here, yeah? We've got something to celebrate."

"You remember?" I ask, turning to face him.

"Baby, I'll never forget the day you first called me an arrogant semi-asshole," he smiles. Then he leans down to whisper in my ear. "Or the first time you called me Ned."

"You were mad," I smirk.

"That didn't stop you from saying it… over and over," he retorts.

"You got used to it," I laugh.

"I didn't have a choice," he insists, amused. "First you changed my name, and then you changed my life."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I ask, grinning up at him as I repeat the question he asked me a year ago today.

"Best thing that ever happened to me," he answers, bending down to peck my lips. "Hands down."

The furniture salesman who's been trailing us around the store for the last hour suddenly appears beside us, probably sensing that we've made a decision. As I listen to Edward place the order and hear the salesman say it will take about twelve weeks for the furniture to be delivered, I keep thinking the same thing: Ned's the best thing that ever happened to me, too.

* * *

"Hey, Jas," I greet, sliding into the opposite side of the restaurant booth. "Sorry I'm late, but I got the contract signed." I beam across the table at him.

He smiles back and nods. "Knew you would, Baby Swan," he remarks. "You're getting to be the best closer McCarty and Whitlock has on staff."

The waitress sets down a platter of nachos in between us, then takes my drink order. I study the menu for a moment. I'm not sure why; I get the same thing every time we come here. After closing the menu and setting it down, I reach for a chip and look up at Jasper.

"Where's everybody else?" I ask, holding my hand across my mouth to hide the food.

"Edward's out of town," he advises, then chuckles.

"_That_ one I knew," I reply, rolling my eyes. I pause to thank the waitress when she sets my drink in front of me. "Rose and Em? Alice?"

"Alice is with Riley at gymnastics class. Rose and Em have something with Jack tonight," he answers. He slumps against the back of the booth.

"So it's just you and me?" I smile, picking up another nacho. It makes me a little happy that I'm getting him to myself tonight.

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugs, then falls silent.

Frowning slightly, I look at Jas while he looks at his pilsner of beer. Something's up with him. But I know him well enough to know that he won't tell me until he's good and ready. So I fill the silence.

I talk about work.

I talk about my dad and Kim.

I talk about buying a new car and, after explaining the furniture shopping odyssey, insist that I'm not taking Edward with me until I've narrowed it down to just a couple of options.

Jas is cooperative – he asks questions, laughs in all the right places, makes a few smartass remarks. But he's not himself. We're finishing our entrees when I lean across the table.

"I'm trying to wait you out," I say quietly. "But I can't stand it anymore. What the hell's going on with you?"

He sighs heavily and reaches into his pocket, then sets a small, black velvet box on the table between us.

"Wha… is that… are you…?" I stammer, reaching for the square box. "Alice?"

He nods tightly, and I lower my eyes and open the lid.

"Oh, God, Jas," I say, my eyes widening when I see the ring. It's a delicate diamond band with a larger round diamond on top. "It's beautiful. She'll love it."

"You think she'll say yes?" he asks, his fearful tone making me raise my eyes back to his.

"You think she won't?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. It's fast. She's been hurt before," he replies, dropping his eyes to the tabletop. "She might be reluctant to take the leap. But I kinda figured… everything with James is settled, at least for the moment. Riley gets out of school soon for the summer. Maybe this would be a convenient time to combine our households."

"What?" I ask, scrunching my face up. I wait until he looks up at me before I continue. "Jas, that's the worst potential proposal I've ever heard. It's not romantic in the slightest."

"Well, what should I say?"

"If you were going to tell her how you really feel, what would you say?"

"That I love her more than anything, and I want her and Riley with me every day," he answers.

Smiling at him, I nod my approval. "That, my friend, is how you propose to the love of your life," I reply, closing the box and holding it toward him. "I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks," he says as he smiles his regular smile for the first time this evening. He sets the box down beside his plate, keeping his hand over it. "What about you? You guys gonna make things official?"

"I don't know, Jas," I admit, leaning forward onto my elbows. "It's the strangest thing. All spring, he asked me to marry him two or three times a week. Then, when I agreed to move in with him, he stopped. Cold turkey. Doesn't even mention it anymore."

"Huh," he says, frowning slightly.

"He's given me jewelry twice since I moved in… in little boxes like that," I declare, nodding at the ring box. I'm surprised at the tone of my voice – I sound angry. "First it was a charm for my bracelet. Then last weekend, on the one year anniversary of the day we met, he took me to the fanciest restaurant in Seattle and laid a box like that on the table. He made me open it myself with my stupid, shaking hands, and I could hardly breathe by the time I saw that these were inside." I raise both index fingers to point at the princess-cut diamond studs he gave me last Saturday.

"Very pretty, sugar," Jas remarks.

"I know they're pretty," I huff, exasperated. "But he keeps faking me out with those little fucking boxes."

To my surprise, Jasper sits back in his side of the booth, laughing hard. I take a sip of my beer, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't explain.

"What?" I ask, irritated.

"He knows you so well," Jas says, still chuckling. "It took Emmett and me several years to figure out how to handle you."

"How to _handle_ me?"

"How to get you to do what we want you to do," he clarifies.

"_And how is that_?" Sitting back, I cross my arms over my chest to display my annoyance.

"Plant the seed. Push you as far as you'll go without balking, then back off and let you come around to wanting it on your own."

"Huh?"

"He proposed repeatedly when he knew that you wouldn't take him seriously… knew it was too soon. Now that you guys are moving that way, he's stopped. He's letting you get over your fear. Waiting for you to want him to ask. But he loves you. He'll ask you when he thinks you're ready to say yes."

"I wouldn't have said no the night I agreed to move in," I claim.

"You were ready to say yes? Or you didn't want to say no again?" Jasper's tone is gentle. His eyes are warm and inquisitive… and expecting me to be truthful.

"I don't know," I answer sullenly, shrugging as I lower my eyes.

"Yes, you do."

"I wasn't ready to say yes," I admit. "I'm still scared. But I love him. I want to marry him… someday."

"I know. He knows. Don't rush it."

"Says the guy who's rushing it," I remark sarcastically.

"Baby Swan," he says, sliding out of his side and moving to sit next to me. "I've wanted to get married for years. You know that. I just hadn't found Alice. There's no timetable for you to take the plunge."

"I wasn't freaked like this about marrying Jake," I whisper, voicing my biggest concern. Why am I so scared to marry Edward, but said yes instantly when Jake asked?

"You didn't love Jake this way. He wasn't the right guy."

"He sure wasn't," I mutter, leaning into Jas when he puts his arm around my shoulders.

"This time, you've got the right guy… you'll know when you're ready."

"I _want_ to be ready."

"You will be. I've never seen you as happy as you are with him," he says. "And you know I'm right about this – all of it."

Nodding my agreement, I let my eyes settle on the ring box across the table, trusting that he's right… that someday when I see a box that size, my heart will pound with only joy instead of the mix of joy and terror I felt last week. I just wish I knew when that someday will be.

Three days later, Jas and Alice come over to tell us they're engaged. I hug them both excitedly, feeling nothing but pure happiness for them. They brought a bottle of champagne, and we sit outside drinking until the bottle is gone.

As they leave, Edward and I stand on the porch with our arms around each other.

"I hope they know what they're doing," he says, raising a hand to wave goodbye when they start to drive away. "This is all happening really fast."

Stepping in front of him, I wrap my arms around his neck and look up at him. "You know, Ned, I'm discovering that it's more about the 'who' than the 'when'.

His green eyes roam my face as he nods. "You're right, Stella. You're my who."

"You're my who, too," I laugh, barely able to pucker up when he bends down to kiss me. His deep, answering chuckle makes me sigh as I dig my fingers into his hair, holding him in place as I press my lips to his.

After a minute, he starts to back up, pulling me inside the house – and toward the stairs. I follow willingly… and for the first time in several days, I'm not at all worried about the when.


	27. The When

**A/N: Last chapter is below.  
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**As always, thanks to Windgirl810. Great beta. Great friend. Also to my friends/prereaders/editors Littlecat358, Michelle0526 and Tennesseelamb. I can never thank all four of you enough for the support, encouragement and swift kicks when I needed them. xoxo  
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**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/followed/favorited Ned and Stella. Each one is precious to me. No firm plans for an epilogue, but if inspiration strikes, I'll just attach it here. :)  
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**Thanks to those who rec'ed this story in various places. It meant so much to me!  
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**Thanks for reading and please review one last time.  
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* * *

**August**

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're making our final approach into the Dallas-Fort Worth area," the pilot announces. While he continues talking about the Texas summer weather and various connecting flights to other cities, I look to my left, across the first class aisle. Edward is reading a book. Turning to my right, I see Riley – who insisted on sitting with me instead of Alice, Jasper or Edward – still sleeping, curled up against the window with her blanket.

Smiling down at her, I let my thoughts drift back over the last two and a half months – since Jasper and Alice got engaged.

In June, Hale Software launched its new operating system in the United States to greater than anticipated sales. Jack was so pleased that he gave McCarty and Whitlock a bonus and a new advertising contract.

Rosalie moved to Seattle full-time. We all helped her after the movers brought her furniture into her downtown condo – even me. Since I'm apparently not going to get away from her, I've dropped my grudge, discovering in the process that she's a pretty good friend. Her often-brusque demeanor still offends me once in a while, but I'm getting more used to it. And Jas pointed out that she displays some of the same bitchy overreactions to fear that I do. We were at a bar when he made that assertion, causing me to choke on my beer. Then I had to drink two more beers when I realized he was right.

Ned and I spent the Fourth of July weekend at his grandparents' cabin again, but this year the whole Cullen clan tagged along. So there was no skinny dipping. And no canoe sex. While we were there, I overheard him ask Carlisle if we could build our own cabin across the pond – I mean _Masen Lake_ – in a couple of years. I backed out of the room before I heard Carlisle's answer, before either of them noticed that I had come through the kitchen doorway behind them. And I surprised myself by feeling mostly excited with just a tiny amount of terror at the thought of building a second home with him.

Ned never mentioned anything to me about it, but he made me walk all the way around the lake, often trudging through ankle-deep mud. Several times, he wanted to stop and look at the view – of the mountains, of the meadow to the east, of the water. As we were standing on the west side of the lake, I told him that I liked being able to look across the water and see the meadow. It wasn't really a hint; I was just commenting. But when he hooked his pinky finger around mine and quietly answered that it was his favorite view, I figured that we'd just picked our spot.

Last weekend – the first weekend of August – we went to San Diego for the same technology conference we attended last year as fake boyfriend and girlfriend. We spent a lot of time with Peter and Charlotte during the four day trip. One morning while the guys were in a meeting, I confessed to Charlotte that Ned and I were only pretending to be a couple last summer. After hugging me, she disagreed – noting that we hadn't admitted our feelings to each other at that point, but that there was nothing fake about them, even then. She was right.

The funniest part of the weekend was that Tanya Denali almost completely ignored Edward, seemingly having moved on to another target this year. We saw her two different evenings in the bar getting way too friendly with a guy who had to be younger than I am. Ned won't admit it, but I think his ego was a little wounded by the lack of attention. To make him feel better, I dragged him to the room early the second night and got friendly with him. I think it worked.

That was only five nights ago. After being home for just three nights, we're now headed to Texas for a wedding… because Jasper and Alice decided that as long as you're rushing into an engagement, you might as well rush into a destination wedding at the Whitlock ranch, too.

When I look over at Edward again, he turns toward me and smiles.

"I love you," I mouth.

"You, too," he responds, leaning across the aisle and bracing his hand on my armrest. "She's still sleeping?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna wake her up in a sec," I say, covering his hand with mine. "Thanks for letting me sit next to her."

"I wasn't aware I had a choice," he laughs. "Talk about having an attitude. I've seen that go south into full-blown tantrums enough times to know better than to fight it. I couldn't take the silent treatment and dirty looks the whole flight from Seattle."

"Riley hasn't thrown a tantrum for a long time," I defend, frowning at him.

"I meant _you_, Stel," he teases, flipping his hand to squeeze my fingers briefly before sitting back up with a chuckle.

"Laugh it up, Ned," I say, raising one eyebrow at him even though I'm having a hard time keeping a straight face. "I'm telling Mama on you as soon as we get to the ranch."

He laughs harder, his face reddening. It's an empty threat and he knows it. During the week she spent in Seattle last spring, Mama and Edward forged quite a bond. She'd be just as likely to take his side as mine in an argument.

Rolling my eyes at him, I turn to Riley and gently wake her. We get her sandals back on and her blanket stowed in her backpack before landing. As soon as the plane stops at the gate, we unbuckle and stand up to deplane. I let Riley into the aisle ahead of me so that she's behind Alice and Jasper, who were sitting in front of us.

I feel Ned's hand on my shoulder right before he breathes in my ear. "Baby, you know I was joking."

"I know," I answer, twisting around to look at him with a too-sweet smile. "Me, too. I won't tell Mama what you said." I wait for him to smile back before I continue. "I'll tell Big Daddy."

* * *

When he picks us up from the airport, Big Daddy is grinning from ear to ear under his black cowboy hat. Once we're all piled into his Escalade, he starts his usual chatter about ministers and weddings – but this time he's talking to Alice instead of me. And this time, Big Daddy and Mama are getting the hitching they've wanted for their youngest son.

At the ranch, Mama greets us all, and then pulls Alice, Riley and me toward the kitchen while the boys carry the luggage inside.

"Y'all must be starved to death after your trip," she remarks, carrying a chocolate cake to the table. "Bella, will you get some plates and forks please?"

"Sure, Mama," I answer. "But you realize that Alice and I have to fit into some very important dresses on Saturday, right?"

"Of course, sweet pea," she says, turning to smile at me. "We're just gonna have a little taste. Isn't that right, Riley?"

Knowing better than to argue with Mama when she's decided that people need a good feeding, I carry the plates and forks to the table, and then pour a glass of milk for Riley and sweet tea for the rest of us. Not surprisingly, the talk at the table is all about the wedding.

"Stay put, Mama," I say, patting her shoulder as I stand when the men come into the kitchen. "I'll take care of the boys." I get cake and tea for all of them and am standing at the counter when the back door opens.

"Where's my future wife?"

Smiling, I turn around to look at him. "Hey, Joey."

Twisting his ball cap around backward, he walks straight toward me, grabbing me and dipping me over his arm.

"Hi, beautiful," he grins.

"Joey!" I hiss quietly. "Let me up. Edward's sitting right there."

"I know that, darlin'. I can feel the heat of his glare," he drawls. "But I can't forget the pain in your eyes last Thanksgiving. I liked your city boy when I met him in Seattle, but I want to know he's still treating you well."

"He is. We're happy," I insist. "Let me up."

"Okay," he agrees, kissing my cheek and then setting me upright again. "Hey, Mama. Hey, y'all."

He walks to the table, kisses Alice and Riley and makes fun of his little brother for getting married in north Texas during the hottest month of the year. He turns down Mama's offer of cake, but, guessing he's thirsty, I pour him a glass of tea. While my back is turned, I hear him say hello to Edward – and I hear Edward's terse reply.

Joey moves back toward me, taking the glass I hand him and drinking most of it before coming up for air.

"Thanks," he smiles. "You sure you don't wanna move down here? Sweet tea and sweet lovin' are all it takes to keep a cowboy happy. You're halfway there."

"Gross," I scoff. "You'll have to rely on Maggie for that other half."

His smile disappears immediately, replaced by the darkest expression I've ever seen on Joey's face. "I reckon Maggie'll be other halfin' someone else by now," he snaps. "She handed me a walking stick and told me where to shove it a month ago."

"Oh, Joey, I'm sorry," I say, reaching for his arm and squeezing gently. "What happened?"

"She started pressuring me. I tried to compromise, but it wasn't enough for her," he answers. "I swear, she'd complain if Jesus Christ himself came down and handed her a hundred dollar bill."

"She wanted to get married?"

"She wanted to be my date for Jasper's wedding," he corrects, making me frown. Seeing my confused look, he rushes to explain. "I didn't see the need to label ourselves, especially since she was already coming along with her folks to the reception. But she wanted to come to the ceremony with me so everyone would think she's my girlfriend."

"And you said no? What a jackass," I mutter, shaking my head at him.

"I can't just turn my whole life upside down for her," he asserts. "Plus, I never bring dates to family events."

"But you've been dating since last fall," I remark incredulously.

"We've been _screwing_ since last fall," he retorts, smirking. "We don't go out much."

I smack the side of his head lightly. "Idiot. I thought maybe you were in love with this girl."

He looks down and turns around to lean against the counter, I assume so no one else can see his furrowed brow and droopy mouth. Glancing at the table, I see that Jas isn't paying any attention to us, but Edward is. I smile at him before sliding my eyes toward Mama. She's watching, too, and probably trying to listen. She's also smirking… which makes me suspicious. But I step back to face Joey, returning my focus to him.

"Joey?"

"I _am _in love with her," he admits quietly. "But I didn't say it when I should have and now I've fucked it all up. I don't know how to fix it. She won't take my calls. Won't see me."

I wrap my arms around him, patting his back the same way I do Riley's when she's upset about something.

"Is she still coming to the reception?"

"I don't know. Prob'ly show up with someone else to rub it in my face."

I rear back and reach my hands up to cup the sides of his face. "Joseph Wesley Whitlock, you listen to me," I scold. "All this moping around will not win back the woman you love. Make a plan and charm the pants off her. Quit smiling. I didn't mean that literally and you know it."

"Yes, ma'am," he replies, but he's starting to laugh. And so am I. He turns to face the table again. "Alice, Riley, would you two like to walk down to the barn? I finished hanging all the lights this morning."

The barn where Alice and Jasper's reception will be held isn't much of a barn. But it is a beautiful building with stained concrete floors, air conditioning, indoor plumbing, and a vaulted beam ceiling. Big Daddy built it for Jason and Bree's reception several years ago, and many other parties have been held there since. Everyone decides to go along except Mama, and, wanting a word alone with her, I decline, too. Edward makes a point of coming to kiss me goodbye.

"What's going on with Joey?" he asks, putting his mouth close to my ear.

"Girl trouble," I whisper. "Be nice to him."

"I will," he assures me, but he drops his hand from the middle of my back down to the top of my ass, presumably marking his territory since Joey is standing behind me. He grins at me as I shove him away.

Once they're all out the door, I help Mama carry the plates and glasses to the sink. We talk about the wedding for the first few minutes, but eventually I twist the conversation toward what _I_ want to know.

"Joey told me that Maggie broke up with him," I begin.

"That boy's crazier than a rabid coon about her," she says, handing me glasses to put in the dishwasher. "Been draggin' tail around here ever since she shut him down."

"Mama, you wouldn't have had anything to do with that shut down," I ask curiously, "would you?" Folding my arms across my chest, I raise one eyebrow at her and purse my lips to the side.

"Bella! I'm surprised at you," she exclaims, pressing a hand over her heart. "Thinking that I would intentionally do something so manipulative." Shaking her head, she clucks her tongue at me as she turns away… and then she giggles.

"I knew it!" I declare. "What did you do?"

"I tell you, I love that boy more than my own life, but Joseph has _always_ been my most challenging child," she states, sighing as she wipes the counter. "He's not any better looking than the rest of my boys, but he does have a certain kind of charm that the others don't possess. Women have been chasing him since he was fifteen years old."

"So what did you _do_?"

"Well, when I heard him bragging to his daddy about having Maggie wrapped around his little finger, I had no choice but to step in," she defends, turning her attention to rinsing out the sink. I'm starting to think that she doesn't want to look me in the eye. "I could tell that she was different for him, but he's never had to really face his feelings for a woman before. He was fixin' to screw it all up."

"Quit justifying and start spilling!"

"I suggested to Maggie that Joey might need to be the one doing the pursuing for once," she admits, finally facing me, and having the good sense to at least look sheepish about what she did. "Ever since that day, she's been running and he's been chasing right after."

"Mama, I can't believe you would do that," I say, even though that's pretty close to what I thought she did. "Joey's really hurting."

"Sweet pea, I know that," she contends. "When you're a mama, your baby's pain is like your own, no matter how old that baby is. But I have faith that the pain he's going through now will make his joy even greater when she finally relents."

"It's a risk," I remark.

"All great love is," she replies. "Thought you would have learned that particular lesson yourself this past year."

"I did," I admit hesitantly.

"And the reward for you has been pretty great," she smiles.

"Yes, it has," I agree, smiling at her.

"You just glow around him, Bella. It does my heart good seeing all of you so happy." She comes toward me to hug me tightly. "Well, everyone except Joey. I feel it building though. His heart will get the better of him soon, I think, and he'll make his big move."

"But then whose life will you meddle in?" I tease as we pull apart.

"You'd best watch your smart remarks, Isabella," she chides, but she's trying not to laugh. "There's never a shortage of loved ones who need a little extra guidance, including you. Now take me upstairs and show me the important dress you'll be wearing on Saturday."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

After dinner, Mama and I are in the kitchen playing cards with Riley.

"Bella, what's an old maid?" Riley asks innocently.

"An older lady who's not married," I answer, smiling at her.

"Like you?"

I feel my face heat as Mama laughs.

"No, sweetie. Someone older than me."

"My mommy's not an old maid," she announces. "She's a bride. Someday, I want to be a bride. Do you want to be a bride someday, too, Bella?"

Before I have to answer, I hear boots on the floor as someone walks in behind me. Turning around, I see Ned, ready to head out with the Whitlock boys, wearing boots and a cowboy hat. Pushing away from the table, I stand up and walk toward him.

"Do I look stupid?"

"No, Ned. As usual, you look ridiculously good. You'll be fighting off all the ladies at Shady's," I predict.

"The same way you fight off Joey?" I knew this was going to come up again.

"Joey is a harmless flirt."

"He keeps calling you his future wife."

"Edward, he's joking," I insist, resting my palms against his chest. "He's trying to get a rise out of you."

He pulls me closer, linking his fingers at the back of my waist. "He won't, but you could," he says lowly.

Laughing, I smile up at him. "Don't drink too much and we'll try that when you get back," I reply quietly, pushing the brim of his hat back.

"Don't mess up my hat."

"You have to tip it back if you're gonna kiss your girl," I advise, pulling on his neck until he leans down.

"Fathers, guard your daughters. The Whitlock boys are goin' to town," Joey calls, clapping his hands as he leads Jas and Jason into the kitchen. "Come on, city boy. Get your hands off my future wife and let's go shoot whiskey."

Edward sighs against my lips. I kiss him quickly. "Go. Have fun. Don't fight," I say, stepping away to adjust his hat for him. "I'll be here waiting."

* * *

Mama and I stay up talking well past midnight, and I haven't been asleep very long when my bedroom door opens. But instead of the tall, messy-haired silhouette I'm expecting, I see Mama's shadowy shape in the light from the hall. Panic races through me as I sit up.

"Mama?"

"Get your shoes, sweet pea. We've got a situation," she answers quietly, and then she's gone.

Heart hammering in my chest, I turn on the bedside lamp and bolt from the bed. I spend ten seconds debating whether I should put clothes on, but end up deciding that Mama would have said if I needed to get dressed… unless it's a dire emergency. Shit! Rushing, I put on my flip flops and grab the shirt Edward wore earlier today from the bench at the end of the bed. As I hurry down the stairs and out to the garage, I shove my arms into the sleeves and pull it around myself.

Mama's already in the driver's seat of her Caddy with the engine running.

"How bad is it?" I ask as I shut the door and fasten my seatbelt.

"Bad?" she asks, glancing at me as she backs out. "Oh, honey, I didn't realize you thought it was bad news. I'm so sorry to have frightened you."

Relaxing against the seat with a heavy sigh, I laugh in relief. "It's okay, Mama. But it's two o'clock in the morning. Where are we going?"

"The Fillingham's place. Maggie's been staying with her folks the last couple of weeks," she smiles, putting the car in drive and speeding down the long driveway. "Joey's making his big move."

* * *

When we get to the Fillingham's, Mama parks in front of the house, right next to Big Daddy. He grins at me as I get out of the car and approach him.

"Figured you two might show up. The boys were drunker 'n seven dollars when I picked them up at Shady's," he says, pulling a plastic toothpick from his mouth. Over his shoulder, I see Jas stretched out on the seat, sound asleep. "Jasper didn't make it four blocks before he passed out. We dropped Jason off at home, and Joey and Edward went stumblin' around to the back of the house a few minutes ago."

"You haven't seen Maggie yet?" Mama asks anxiously.

"Nope," Big Daddy answers. "I 'spect she'll torture him a little longer."

"Think this will work?" I ask.

"Hard to say. But after Edward told Joey how well it worked with you, Joey was hell bent on trying it," he laughs.

"Well, I'm not going to miss the show," Mama declares, taking off at a brisk pace around the side of the house.

"We may as well watch, too, Bella," Big Daddy says as he opens his car door and climbs out.

Before we get to the backyard, I hear them.

"Maggie. Maggie," Joey yells. Edward joins in on the second syllable each time. Both of them are looking toward an upstairs window. Neither of them seems to notice that Mama, Big Daddy and I are standing a few feet away. "Maggaaaayyyy."

Suddenly, the outside light comes on, but it's not a young woman who comes outside and slams the door. It's a very angry older man – and his rifle.

"Joey, what the devil is going on out here?" he demands. He cocks the rifle, but cradles it across his chest, not pointing it at anyone. Beside me, Mama chuckles, and I wonder fleetingly if she's got Mr. Fillingham roped into her scheme, too.

"Mr. Filli'ham," Joey says, his words slurred slightly. "I needa talk to Maggie."

"She's in bed. Y'all stop making all this racket and go on home."

"I can't, sir. I can't. I gotta tell her," he persists. Backing up a step, Joey looks up at the second floor window again and yells. "Maggie. Maggaaaayyyy."

"I don't reckon my daughter is interested in anything you have to say," Mr. Fillingham proclaims. Seeing movement in my peripheral vision, I glance toward the window beside the back door and see someone peering between the blinds. "But if you tell me, I'll relay the message in the morning."

Joey blinks uncertainly at Mr. Fillingham for a few seconds, then reaches one hand up to grip the back of his neck.

"Say it," Mama says under her breath. We're too far away for Joey to hear her, but Big Daddy answers softly.

"Give him a minute, Mary. The boy's getting there."

"Tell her… tell her… I love her," Joey finally replies, the words coming out in a quiet gust of air.

"Speak up, boy," Mr. Fillingham orders. In front of me, Mama has her hands pressed against her mouth and is nodding.

"I love her," Joey says loudly. "I'm in love with her."

When I hear the back door open, I turn and see a young woman who I assume is Maggie step outside, closing the door behind her.

"Joey Whitlock, so help me God, if you're lying, I'll break your legs." She moves to stand beside her father, watching Joey warily.

"Maggie," he says hoarsely as he walks toward her. "I'm not lying. I swear."

"Why should I give you another chance?"

He shrugs. "You prob'ly shouldn't. Lord knows I don't deserve it," he allows, stopping in front of her. "But I promise I'll treat you right from now on."

Mama is sniffling, I'm teary-eyed, and the way Big Daddy just cleared his throat makes me think he's choked up, too. Turning to look at Edward, I see that he's watching Joey with the same drunk grin on his face that he had that night in Key West. The night when he was yelling outside my window.

"No more telling people that I'm wrapped around your finger?" Maggie asks, drawing my attention back to her.

"No."

"We're going to go on dates where people might see us?"

"Yes."

"You won't pretend I'm nothing to you if we see each other in town?"

"Never. You have my word."

She takes a step toward him, nodding slightly. Joey pulls her into his arms, bending down to speak quietly to her. Mama and I both sigh while Big Daddy mutters something about Mama always getting what she wants.

Mr. Fillingham and his rifle walk toward us, but I step away, heading for Edward.

"Hi, Stel," he says, still smiling, when I reach him. "What are you doing here?"

"Coming to get you. How drunk are you?"

"Not that much," he responds, leaning down to kiss me. "You're pretty."

"Thanks," I say with a laugh. "Ready to go?"

He nods. "I need to sit down."

Taking his hand, I pull him toward where Mama and Big Daddy are waiting. Mama winks at us – well, at Edward – and then gasps as we get closer.

"Edward Cullen, what has happened to your face?" she demands. "Get over here in the light where I can see you."

I didn't notice anything on Edward's face when I was standing with him in the dim yard, but now that we're under the light, I can see that his left cheek is red and bruising.

I hear Joey tell Maggie that he'll call her in the morning as she goes inside, then he turns toward us. Mama is holding Edward's face, turning it toward the light and twisting it back and forth, clucking her tongue all the while.

"Now, Mama. It wasn't his fault," Joey begins when he gets to us. "That little asshole Bubba McCoy started all of it. Right, city boy?"

"Yeah."

Mama hmphs, releasing Edward's face and walking toward the front of the house. We all follow, as expected.

"The things he said about me, Jasper… our family. Mama, I just couldn't let it slide," Joey insists.

"So you got mouthy with him?" she guesses.

"Yep. And Edward did, too," he grins. "But city boy's reflexes aren't as quick as mine. He went left when he should have gone right."

Mama stops in front of the cars and turns to face us. "Bella, you ride home with Big Daddy. I want a private word with these two fools," she declares. Too smart to argue, I nod and head for the passenger side of the Escalade, holding in my laughter when I hear what Mama says to Edward. "I warned you to stay away from Joey. He's a bad influence. Now you've got yourself a black eye for your sister's wedding. I should knock both y'all into next week."

Big Daddy and I chat quietly on the drive back. At the ranch, I help get Jas inside and settled on the couch. When we hear Mama's car coming up the drive, Big Daddy tells me where to find Mama's secret salve for getting rid of bruises quickly, suggesting I take it from the kitchen medicine cabinet and go upstairs. Now. Since his advice where Mama's concerned is generally good, I follow it.

While I'm brushing my teeth in our bathroom, I hear Edward come into the bedroom. I walk out and see him lying face down across the bed. He doesn't speak or move as I pull off the borrowed cowboy boots.

"Roll over, baby," I whisper. He does, but still doesn't say anything, keeping his eyes closed. He cooperates as I take his jeans and socks off. I lean forward to unsnap the front of his shirt, then inhale sharply when I see the bruises across the left side of his body. "Does that hurt?"

"Yeah," he breathes. "Bubba hits hard."

"Why did you butt in?"

"He got in Joey's face."

"And you got between them?" Standing up again, I slide my hands down the front of his legs and wrap them around his ankles.

"Joey was wasted. Didn't want him to get his ass kicked," he replies. "Especially since my girlfriend is his _future wife_." He doesn't open his eyes, but he lifts his hands to make snotty quotes around the words.

"Ah, I see he's still not getting a rise out of you," I say sarcastically as his hands drop back to the bed. "If you're so irritated with him, why'd you defend him?"

He mutters the universal three-syllable grunt that means he doesn't know. When a few seconds tick by with no other answer, I clear my throat and tug gently on his ankles. He exhales deeply, probably annoyed that I keep asking questions.

"You said they're like your brothers," he grumbles, making me smile. I glide my hands up and down his shins as he continues. "Can't have anyone talking like that to my girlfriend's family."

"Thank you… for what you did for Joey. With Maggie. And at the bar."

He frowns slightly. "Did it for you."

Pulling my hands off him, I let his shirt slide from my shoulders and push my pajama pants off. Wearing just my tank top and underwear, I crawl onto the bed, straddling him and resting my hands on his chest. "Ned, I'm not usually in favor of using violence as a solution to problems, but… that actually turns me on."

Eyes still closed, he raises one hand to lay on my leg. "You're gonna have to ramble or something, Stel. I'm hardly awake."

"Thank you. Thank you," I say quietly, bending forward to kiss his forehead, the uninjured side of his face, his mouth. "Thank you." I trace his bottom lip with my tongue before skimming my lips down his neck. He moans softly, but continues to lie unmoving underneath me.

"Welcome," he mumbles.

"Did you know the state flower of Texas is the bluebonnet?"

"Huh uh."

"And the state animal is the armadillo."

"Big Daddy told me it's the longhorn."

"They have a large and small state animal," I laugh against his chest. "Jesus, why do I know that?"

As I kiss my way across his flat stomach, I scrape my fingernails over his nipples and he finally moves, arching his back slightly. I drop my palms to the bed, supporting myself as I gently touch my lips to his bruised ribs. When I look up, he's watching me.

"Want me to sing _The Yellow Rose of Texas_?" I ask, raising one eyebrow.

He huffs out a chuckle, and then winces. "Ouch. Shit," he hisses. "You know the words to _The Yellow Rose of Texas_?"

"Of course, Ned," I scoff, sitting back on his thighs. Then I quietly sing. "There's a yellow rose in Texas that I am going to see."

He shakes with laughter and reaches for his side. "Stop making me laugh."

"I can't help it if my ramblings are wildly amusing," I smile as I pull my tank top off. "I should probably leave you alone though – you know, since you're sleepy and in pain."

"It doesn't hurt _that_ bad," he protests. Wrapping his hands around the outside of my thighs, he pulls on me until I scoot forward a bit.

"But you're hardly awake," I tease.

"Baby, I think you can tell that's no longer the case," he says roughly. He holds me in place as he pushes his erection against me. "You're gonna have to be on top though."

Leaning forward again, I sigh against his lips, feeling his hands dig into my hair. "That's no problem, Ned. That's no problem for me at all."

* * *

The next three days pass in a whirlwind as we finish preparations for the wedding. Scott and Jeremy arrive from Key West. Carlisle, Esme, Emmett and Rosalie come from Seattle. We all do whatever Mama asks, and by Saturday night, everything is ready.

As planned, the family-only wedding is held inside the house. It's beautiful, and I spend the first part of the ceremony looking at Jas. Other than when he was hungover on Thursday, I don't think he's stopped smiling since we got to Texas. He's so happy – and I'm so happy that my best friend finally found his soul mate. And even more elated that I love her, too.

Standing beside Alice, I wonder if she'll return the favor for me someday soon. The fear I once felt about making this commitment to Edward has all but disappeared. But even though I've tried to drop some hints over the last couple of weeks, Edward doesn't seem to be getting it.

Or maybe he doesn't want to get it. My heart pounds as a new fear races through me. What if he's changed _his_ mind? Panicked, I look over my right shoulder to where he's sitting with Carlisle and Esme in the front row. They're all watching Alice, but Edward glances my way and winks. I smile back at him before we both turn our attention to the ceremony again. Wiping my own selfish worries out of my head, I applaud along with everyone else when Jasper and Alice are pronounced husband and wife.

At the reception, attended by almost everyone in Grayson County, I help keep track of Riley and hang out with Rosalie since she really doesn't know anyone else. Late in the evening, I offer to hold Jason and Bree's sleeping baby girl so they can dance together. Standing near the cake table, I sway back and forth slowly and watch them; holding each other close, talking and laughing, even after years of marriage and three kids.

That's what I want. All of it.

I let my eyes roam the dance floor, landing briefly on some of the other dancing couples: Edward and Alice, Emmett and Rosalie, Jasper and Riley, Joey and Maggie, Big Daddy and Esme. Smiling, I turn my head when Mama comes to stand beside me.

"My dogs sure are barking. Don't tell anyone you saw me do this," she whispers. She bends down to take her shoes off, and then kicks them under the cake table. "I see you've got my littlest angel there. Well, littlest angel for _now_. I expect Jasper and Alice will add to the family. And you and Edward, too, once you're married."

"Oh, Lord, Mama," I sigh. "Can we finish one wedding before you start planning another?"

"Sweet pea, idle hands are the devil's plaything. I like to keep mine busy," she says, wiggling her fingers at me. "Besides, don't you want to see me happy in my golden years?"

"Now you're trying to make me feel guilty?" I laugh.

"Guilty about what?" Edward asks, suddenly appearing behind me. He kisses the side of my head and runs the tips of his fingers across the baby's head.

"Well, if this isn't a pretty picture! The two of you with a baby," Mama exclaims. "I feel like I'm looking right into a crystal ball."

"Mama," I groan, closing my eyes and shaking my head.

"Oh, hush," she scolds. "The way you two feel about each other is written all over your faces. I expect to be invited to Seattle for a wedding soon."

"Mama, please," I beg, feeling my face heat. Edward slides his arm around my waist as he steps up beside me.

"Or you'd be welcome to have the nuptials here," she continues, undeterred.

"She'd have to say yes first," Edward laughs, using the arm he has around my waist to squeeze gently. I feel my mouth drop open and turn to glare at him, but he's too busy sharing a laugh with Mama to notice.

I'd have to say yes first? Maybe you should ask first, you arrogant semi-asshole. Trying to curb my irritation, I look around the room, catching Jer's eye from a few feet away. He frowns, then excuses himself from the group he was talking to, motioning for Scott to follow. They both eye me cautiously as they approach.

"Baby Swan, care to dance?" Jer asks evenly, standing on the other side of Edward. "Scott will take the baby."

"I'd love to," I answer tightly, forcing myself to smile at him. Edward trails his hand along my arm as I pull away to hand off the baby. I take Jer's arm and walk off without a backward glance.

As we dance, we talk about the ceremony, the perfect weather, Scott, their hope to adopt a child next year. Then, finally, about me.

"You looked like you were ready to give somebody a whooping back there," he says. "What were my Mama and your boyfriend cooking up?"

"Marriage talk," I complain, "where I end up looking like the villain who won't say yes." I relay the whole conversation, speaking quietly as he bends down to me.

"But he's never _really_ proposed?" Jer asks, frowning.

"No," I grouse. "Jas says he's waiting for some secret signal from me or something."

"Well, at least you're not letting it affect your mood," he teases, waiting until I smile reluctantly before he continues. "I think Jasper's right. Edward is letting you lead, just like he did when he came to Key West."

"I'm starting to feel like I'm going to have to be the one who proposes," I grumble, trying not to smile when Jer laughs. But he spins us around quickly until I can't help but giggle.

When we slow into rhythm again, he kisses my forehead. "Baby Swan, it's all gonna work out. The way that man looks at you, he'll give you anything you want if you just say the word," he soothes. "And, shit, are you two ever gonna make beautiful babies."

"Oh, hell, not you, too."

"Admit it. You've thought about it," he prods.

"Well, not about if they'll be beautiful or not," I confess. "But yeah." He hugs me tightly and I rest my chin on his shoulder.

We spend the rest of the song planning trips to each other's cities, knowing that we'll all go our separate ways tomorrow. Realizing that it will be several months before I see him again makes me sad.

As the song comes to a close, I watch Edward walk toward us.

"May I cut in?" he asks, standing next to us. Jer pulls back to look questioningly at me, then hands me over to Ned once I nod. Sliding one arm around my waist, he pulls me close, holding our joined hands over his heart. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," I say, tilting my head back to look at him. "Just don't give Mama any more ammunition. She can't help but push."

"I noticed," he chuckles. "But it's up to us. There's no pressure."

"I don't feel pressured, Ned. I'm not afraid of–."

"Good," he interrupts, "because I don't want to change anything."

"You don't?" I ask, taken aback. My breath rushes out in a quiet huff. I assumed he was ready to take the next step and was just waiting for me… but I guess I was wrong.

"Nope," he confirms, leaning down to kiss me. "I'm happy with our life. Are you?"

"Yeah," I answer as I nod. It's the truth; I _am _happy. Although I want more with him, I'm willing to wait for him the same way I thought he was waiting for me. "I'm happy with our life, too."

We're quiet for a moment, both holding tight, until he pulls away to look at me.

"How's my face? Is my makeup staying on?"

With a laugh, I reach up to trace the faint bruising on his cheek. Thanks to Mama's salve and my concealer, it's barely visible.

"You look great, slugger."

Leaning down, he lowers his voice, speaking quietly in my ear. "Are you still aroused by my defense of your family's honor?"

"No. But after Bree told me how many people Bubba has beaten up, I _am_ grateful that you came back in one piece."

"Grateful as in you want to write a thank you note to Bubba? Or grateful as in you want to go to our room and have your way with me?"

"Neither," I reply. "You could probably persuade me to do one of those things though."

"Which one?" he teases, standing up and smirking.

"I'll give you a hint, Ned," I say as I start to back up, pulling him from the dance floor with me. "I love you… and I _hate_ writing thank you notes."

* * *

Two weeks later, I sit cross-legged on our bed watching Edward as he finishes packing. The car will be here in ten minutes to take him – and Rosalie – to the airport. They're flying to Asia for the worldwide release of the new operating system. I know he has to go, but I'm a little freaked that he'll be gone during the same dates as the ill-fated trip to Europe a year ago… when everything started to fall apart for us.

As he zips his suitcase closed and lifts it off the bed, I drop my eyes to my lap, picking idly at my fingernails. Bending down, he rests his palms on my knees, putting his face right in front of mine.

"Look at me, Stella," he says softly, waiting until I meet his gaze before he continues. "This is nothing like last year."

Nodding, I swallow loudly before I try to speak. "I know. I'm just going to miss you."

"I'll miss you, too, baby," he replies, pressing his lips to mine. "But you'll be busy. You have a big deadline while I'm gone, right? You'll hardly be home anyway."

"Nice try, Ned, but I don't feel better," I mutter, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He stands up again, lifting me to kneel on the bed.

"I'll be back before you know it." Burying his face in my neck, he holds me more tightly and exhales against my skin. When the doorbell rings a couple of minutes later, he kisses me before pulling away. "Walk down with me?"

After I agree, we go downstairs and outside. I lean into the limo to tell Rosalie goodbye, then hug and kiss Edward once more. I manage to smile and wave from the sidewalk as they drive away… and I make it back inside before I cry.

During the seven days that follow, Edward texts often and calls at least once a day, always mindful of the time difference and the fact that I really like my sleep. While he's gone, I try to follow our normal routine – running on the evenings we usually do, eating dinner out with our friends, taking Riley for ice cream – hoping it will make the time go by quickly. It doesn't really work.

The day before he comes home, our bedroom furniture is finally delivered. The new dresser is taller than the old one and has an additional drawer on each side. After I move some of my things from the closet into my extra drawer, I decide to surprise Edward by moving his stack of plain, white t-shirts into his. Chuckling, I remember how hard he tried to trade me more closet space in return for one of my drawers when I moved in. Even though he was grumpy, I didn't give it up.

When I pull his pile of shirts from the closet shelf, a small, cardboard box that was concealed underneath falls to the floor. Replacing the shirts, I bend down to pick up the box. It's black. Square. Fits in the palm of my hand.

And the silver script on top of the box reads "Morgan's Fine Jewelry".

Blowing out a shaky breath, I let my unsteady legs buckle, sinking to the floor. I take the lid off the box and carefully lift out the smaller, square, velvet box inside. As I hold it in my hand, I'm aware that my heart is pounding, my breathing is shallow… and I'm smiling. I'm not scared at all.

I set the box down on the floor and pull my knees into my chest, hugging them. "This is so stupid," I mumble, raising one hand to swipe at the tears leaking from my eyes. "I don't even know if it's what I think it is."

Picking the box up again, I turn it over in my hand. What else could be in a box this size? I doubt if it's more earrings. He knows I love the ones he gave me… I rarely take them off. It could be another charm for my bracelet, I guess. Or cufflinks. But why would he hide the box if it's just a pair of cufflinks? He's got several pairs that he keeps in an antique cigar box on the dresser. Logically, whatever's in here must be for me.

I giggle to myself, happy that I found it, hoping that I'm right about what's inside. But I feel guilty for snooping, even though my discovery was accidental. So, although I'd like to peek, I force myself to put it back inside the larger box, and replace it beneath the pile of t-shirts.

When he calls a couple of hours later, I find it difficult to talk normally to him, laughing nervously several times. Ned comments on my giddiness, but lets it go when I tell him I'm just glad he'll be home in twenty-six hours. Besides, that's also true.

All day Friday, I count down the hours until his plane will arrive. When there are only two hours left, the phone rings. It's Ned. Frowning, I answer warily.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Stel," Ned begins.

"No! No, no, no. You're supposed to be in the air," I whine.

"I know, baby. We're stuck in L.A. Mechanical problems. We have to fly standby on the late flight," he explains.

"How late? You were already getting in after nine," I reply.

"If we get on the flight, I'll be home around two," he says. "Don't wait up. I'll try not to wake you when I come in."

"Ned," I breathe. "Shit. I want you here now."

"I feel the same. And I'm dying for regular food. I'd love a PB&J."

Laughing, I promise to fix him as many sandwiches as he wants tomorrow. After we hang up, I mope around the house, watch TV, take a bath. He texts me to say that they got on the flight, but a little after midnight, I realize I'll never be able to stay awake until he gets home.

I make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, cover it with plastic wrap, and leave it on the counter with a note. When I get upstairs, I turn on the bathroom light for him, strip down and get in bed, rolling onto my stomach and falling asleep almost instantly.

Later, through a sleepy haze, I hear him whisper my name and feel the sheet being peeled away from my back.

"Edward?" I blink slowly, trying to force my eyes to stay open.

"Yeah, baby. I didn't want to wake you," he answers, climbing onto the bed. His lips skim across my shoulder as he crawls over me, putting a hand on each side of my head and wedging one leg in between mine. "You weren't sleeping, were you?"

"Nope," I lie, smiling. Chuckling, he uses one hand to move my hair away from my neck. "Hi."

"Hi, sweetheart. Thanks for the sandwich," he whispers, kissing the corner of my mouth.

"God, you smell good," I mumble. "I never considered peanut butter an aphrodisiac before." He chuckles against my ear, hitting me with another wave of the sweet scent. "Jesus, it's probably not even the peanut butter. You probably have some freaky pheromone never before known to man – or woman. It's just you. Maybe that's why I can't keep my hands to myself when you're around. And why I can't stop thinking about you. I kept smelling your shirts last week – the dirty ones in the hamper, Ned. Isn't that gross? I didn't do any of your laundry because I was afraid your stuff wouldn't smell like you anymore. What's the matter with me?"

"Even half-asleep, you ramble," he laughs, kissing across my upper back. "I missed you so fucking much last week, Stel."

"Not a week. Nine days, Ned," I correct. "No more trips that long."

"Okay," he agrees. He pulls the sheet completely off me then, but covers me with his body immediately. He lies between my legs, pushing them farther apart and pressing me into the mattress. "But I have to say, coming home to you sleeping naked in our new bed is pretty great."

"Do you like the furniture?"

"Can I get back to you? I'm a little distracted right now," he murmurs, sounding amused as he scoots down, kissing his way down my spine.

"Mmhmm," I answer. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty freaking distracted myself.

"Missed your spectacular ass, too," he murmurs against my lower back. He dips his fingers between my legs, stroking me gently. "Did you miss me?"

"I think we've already established that," I answer breathlessly, trying to move against his hand. "Peanut butter breath. Stinky clothes."

He hmms as he moves up my body again, pulling his hand away from me. Despite the amount of wiggling I do under him, he takes his time, grazing his lips and fingers across my back. When he nuzzles my neck, I push my hips up toward him, and then gasp when he thrusts against me.

I love the weight of him on my back… love the way he continues sliding slowly between my legs, not pushing inside. As he runs his tongue along the shell of my ear, I reach up to grip his hair, panting. When I whimper, he slips his hand between my body and the mattress, moving toward where I want it most. Curling his fingers in, he finds my clit and circles it gently. This isn't really comfortable, but I don't really care.

"Did you miss me?" he repeats, his low voice sending another surge of desire racing through me.

"Yes," I groan. "Hate you… gone."

"But you love this?" he asks. "Love me?"

"Yes. Oh, God… Ned," I gasp, arching my back as I come, my heart pounding hard and fast. Totally limp, I collapse down onto the bed again. He shifts his arm to my waist, turning me over easily despite my lack of cooperation. He thrusts into me, then holds still and leans down to kiss me.

"I love you," he says lowly, looking into my eyes. He wraps one hand and then the other around my wrists, pinning me to the bed. "Does this scare you?"

"No, Edward," I whisper. "I trust you."

Putting his open mouth against mine, he pulls out and slowly slides back in several times, until I push back. He groans my name and speeds up, driving into me again and again. When I come a second time, he follows right after, releasing my wrists and gripping my hands instead.

Sweaty and out of breath, we lie tangled together… not moving, not talking. I try to blink away the tears collecting in my eyes before he sees them. This isn't the first time I've been overwhelmed by my feelings for him, but it's the first time I've been completely unafraid of them… unafraid of what I want.

Him. Always.

He mumbles that he's too heavy as he rearranges us soon after, shifting us to our sides. Resting his head against my chest, he wraps an arm around me as I pull my fingers lazily through his hair.

"Don't leave again, okay?" I ask, kissing the top of his head.

"Baby, you know I have to travel for work."

"Yes, Ned," I say, annoyed. "Rationally, I get that. But I want to pretend for tonight. Can't you just tell me that you won't leave?"

He scoots up in the bed so that we're face to face. "I won't leave, Stella."

Smiling, I press my lips to his. "Say it like Brando," I plead quietly.

"Stellllaaaa," he whispers hoarsely, making us both laugh. "Stellllaaaa."

He kisses me several times, but when he pulls away to yawn, I know it won't be long before he's out. I roll over, sighing contentedly as he hauls me back against his chest.

"Know what I want to do tomorrow?" I ask.

"Sleep, I hope," he mutters. "Or at least stay in bed."

"Definitely sleep," I answer, reaching for the hand he has around my waist. "But I was thinking, if you feel up to it, maybe we could walk to the lake in the afternoon… rent a canoe or something."

"Sure, Stel. Whatever you want," he mumbles tiredly. "Just let me know."

I smile. That's exactly what I'm planning to do.

* * *

I let Ned sleep as long as he wants in the morning. He wakes up around noon and talks me into showering with him, which, of course, leads to sex. I fix lunch while he unpacks, and after we eat, he falls asleep again on the couch.

By late afternoon, he's up, and he gives in pretty easily when I remind him about what I want to do. We hold hands as we stroll unhurriedly toward the lake. I talk a little about what happened here during the week; he complains some about traveling with Rosalie.

After paying for our canoe, we walk onto the dock and take our paddles from the teenaged attendant.

"I'm steering this time," I state firmly, moving toward the rear seat of the canoe.

"Of course you are," he answers sardonically. I bet he rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. "You know, it's possible to steer the canoe from the bow as well."

"I want to sit in the back and I want to steer," I say quietly. The steely tone of my voice makes Ned raise his eyebrows.

"_Fine_," he replies snottily. He's smirking, so I know he's just making fun of me. He steps into the front of the canoe, muttering under his breath – but loudly enough for me to hear. "Freaking bossy woman."

He leans over to the dock, steadying the canoe as I climb in and sit in back, leaving the middle seat between us empty. We push away and paddle toward the center of the lake, neither of us speaking for a few minutes.

The lake isn't as crowded as I expected for a sunny summer afternoon, but we still pass several other canoes and paddle boats. The voices of the kids playing on the shore carry across the water, and I find myself smiling as I watch them.

Ned still hasn't said anything, hasn't even turned to look at me. Pulling my paddle from the water, I reach the handle end forward to poke him gently.

"No wonder you like sitting back here. I have a perfect view of your spectacular ass," I tease, putting the paddle back into the water as I chuckle.

"That's what you're doing back there?" he asks. "No wonder you're doing such a lousy job of steering us." His shoulders shake with silent laughter. I know he's kidding, but he's kind of right. I'm not doing much back here.

"When I sat in front, I entertained you with scintillating conversation. Maybe you should concentrate on pleasing the captain," I suggest.

"All right. Words that make you happy. I'll go first," he says, turning his head to the side so I can hear him even though he lowers his voice. "Penetration."

I force myself not to laugh, but I'm not surprised at his choice. He tried to convince me to stay home and have sex instead of coming to the lake.

"Foreplay," I respond.

"Friction." I can't help but laugh this time.

"Um…cunnilingus," I whisper-yell, leaning forward so he can hear me.

"You know I'm gonna have to say blow job," he replies, twisting around to look at me.

"That's two words, Ned."

"Two words that make me happy," he laughs, facing forward again.

"What do you think it says about us that all of our happy words are sexual?" I muse.

"Not all," he argues. "Affection."

"Communication," I offer, smiling at his back.

"Compromise," he responds.

"Commitment."

"Home," he says, pulling his paddle in from the water and lying back on the seat in between us. I pull my paddle in, too, and then lean forward to upside-down kiss him. I press my lips against his several times before sliding my mouth along his jaw.

"Love," I murmur against his skin. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Stel," he replies.

"Marriage," I whisper in his ear. I wait for him to say something, but after several seconds tick by with no response, I raise up to look at him. He takes his sunglasses off and I do the same. We look intently into each other's eyes, both of us searching, both of us answering. "How come you quit asking me?"

"You kept saying no. I didn't want to push too hard," he explains, reaching up to bury one hand in my hair. "So I decided to stop until you were ready to give a different answer."

My heart races and I feel like I might not ever be able to take another deep breath, but I smile at him.

"Maybe you should start again."

I watch the crooked grin appear on his face and grow wide. I see the flood of emotion in his dark, green eyes as I feel my own fill with tears.

"Marry me?" he asks.

"Yes."


End file.
